


Up shit creek

by squeakylids



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, College Student Sam Winchester, Cultists, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Forgive Me, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Minor Character Death, Minor Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester, Minor Lisa Braeden/Dean Winchester, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Slow Burn, Soldier Castiel, Survival, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Violence, Zombie Apocalypse, Zombies, capable female lead, no wilting flowers here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-03-17 17:23:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 27,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13663761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squeakylids/pseuds/squeakylids
Summary: She was going to die up a tree.They were heading for their uncles.There are a lot of zombies in the way.





	1. The old oak

**Author's Note:**

> This is response to the prompt "what would you do if you were stuck up a tree in a zombie apocalypse?" to try and get myself out of my super deep depressed funk and back into writing. No idea where it's gonna go in the long run. If you enjoy it and feel like it, throw some suggestions into the comments, this thing is organic and I'm always looking for ideas.

Pressing my fingers harshly into my eyes, I let out a weary sigh.

This. This was how I died. Mouth breathers swarming all around, my pack uselessly laying in the dirt hundreds of feet away halfway between me and the tree line, and my sorry ass chased up the only old lonely oak tree in the middle of a farm field. Fucking fantastic. I was gonna die up a fucking tree.

Goddamnit.

Below me, dead eyes were locked upward; a mass of the things seethed, decaying arms reaching for the sky as skeletal fingers clawed at the air, desperately trying to grab me. Gnashing teeth and horrible groans were the only sounds to be heard and it was the unwelcome accompanying symphony to my demise.

There was no way in hell I was getting out of this bunch of bullshit, not this time.

If I stayed up the tree much longer I was going to either die of dehydration or, more likely, tumble out of the thing to my death from sheer exhaustion. The undead didn't need to worry about things like hunger, or thirst, or the desperate need for sleep. All the undead had to do was wait, and eventually, I would succumb to gravity or desperation.

And they would be waiting.

There had to be at least a hundred of them now, all congregating under the base of my last stand. They circled out further than the branches of the tree reached, cutting off any hope of dropping outside of the mass somehow and fleeing, even if my fucked up knee didn't prohibit it. Even in the darkness, I could see the gleam of dead eyes and the shine of rotting teeth in gaping maws as the bastards peered up at me with those stupid blank looks, just waiting.

It had been two _days_.

Turning my gaze upward, I tried to get lost in the majesty that was the milky way and ignore the reality of my situation. The sky looked amazing without light pollution to ruin it all for me, and watching satellites still creep from horizon to horizon was slightly hypnotic. For a moment I let my mind wander to the ISS and I briefly wondered what happened to the astronauts that had been stationed up there when everything had gone to shit. Did they come home? Were they still there, trying to survive? Did they perish? I couldn't even begin to imagine what it had been like for them, but I truly doubted any of them were still alive. If there was an afterlife I figured I would find out one way or another, and if they had perished I'd buy them all a round at heaven's bar and they could fill me in on the gory details while we exchanged tales of horror.

A blaze of light suddenly streaked across the sky so bright it was momentarily blinding, bringing me out of my thoughts. Logically I knew it was nothing more than a piece of debris skipping across the atmosphere, and logically I knew that magical thinking was complete bullshit.

Still...

"Man, I wish I wasn't gonna die here," I muttered quietly to the lingering shimmer of the shooting star.

A sudden, brilliant blaze of red illuminated the darkness and I blinked at the sudden light, squinting to try and make sense of what I was seeing. When my eyes adjusted my heart suddenly leaped into my throat.

What I was seeing was the dark figure of a man in a dark poncho holding a lit flare aloft, the red glow casting eerie shadows over the scene when the entire horde turned towards the source of light in tandem. He was standing on a small road a few hundred yards away. All at once the horde started moving, and I expected the man to drop the flare and run for his life the moment he saw what kind of attention he was garnering, because the whole thing looked like an illuminated scene straight from hell. Instead, to my total shock, he held his ground.

"THAT'S RIGHT YOU SONS OF BITCHES!" He bellowed, his voice overly loud in the apocalyptic night, "COME AND GET ME! FRESH MEAT, RIGHT HERE!"

It was like a dream, watching the seething mass that had been my doom move away into the darkness. The madman in the poncho with the flare lured them away like the pied piper, whooping and hollering as he went. In a matter of minutes, he had lured them far enough away that I couldn't even hear them. Suddenly, I found myself alone in the darkness up a tree.

I bit my tongue to keep from screaming as my knee gave out when I hit the dirt, hitting the ground hard. The dirt below me was slick and gross with things I didn't want to think about as I forced myself back to my feet, trying to ignore the pain throbbing through my leg. This was my one and only chance to run, and I wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth as I hobbled to where my bag had been.

The tree line was now a matter of life and death, and not just because it offered me some protection from the horde. As much as I wanted to believe that some random guy had helped a fellow survivor out of the kindness of his heart, I didn't know that for sure. The reality was a lot more brutal than the innocent ideology of a "good Samaritan" in this world. Reality was the fact that women were not only now scarcer than ever, but that most men were total fucking bastards.

My bag was miraculously untrampled and exactly where I had thought that it was. I wasted no time in shrugging it on and slipping into the trees, trying to move as fast as my injury would allow. I needed to put as much distance between myself and the drawn off danger as possible, and there was no telling if the guy in the poncho had been alone.

The huge hand that suddenly clamped over the lower half of my face did a very good job of muffling my scream as I was suddenly pulled hard against a massive, solid body. I felt like I was peering up at the shadow-shrouded face of a giant as I recoiled away from his looming visage. All I could really make out in the darkness was the wet glitter of his eyes, but it was enough to make my stomach drop out as I realized that I was physically outmatched.

I didn't even get a chance to try to fight him. The huge man simply jerked me off my feet and bolted off into the darkness.


	2. In the barn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our lead meets both her savior and her kidnapper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess potential trigger warning? Lead thinks she might be sexually assaulted.

At some point during the flight, I passed out. Exhaustion and terror and the fact that the huge paw was covering both my nose and mouth must have overcome me. Due to that fact, I had no idea how far or how long we traveled, but I doubted it had been very far. I came to laid out on a dirt floor, my pack missing, to the rattling sound of a large door on rollers, my head throbbing sharply in time with my pulse as adrenaline continued to flood my system. A too bright lantern lit the interior of a barn as I pushed up and looked towards the door.

"Everything go ok?"

"Yeah, I lost them," came poncho's slightly out of breath voice, "you get her?"

With that, they both looked at me, and my stomach dropped out as I got a good look at the disheveled men who had both apparently rescued and abducted me.

They _were_ titans. Both of them. The man in the poncho was shorter but still obviously over six feet tall, the figure next to him a few inches taller still. I probably weighed about 110lbs with everything that had happened and topped out at a whopping five foot two. I was totally and completely fucked.

Still panting slightly from exertion poncho took a step forward, which made me scramble to my feet, determined to keep distance between us. He looked dangerous, a scowling angular face with a decent growth of beard on his jaw. I started trembling involuntarily when he growled at me.

"Take off your clothes."

 _No_. This was not happening. I did not _not_ get killed by the undead for this. No.

Jerking my head from side to side I took another step back, only to suddenly be brought up short by the wall behind me. My eyes began desperately searching the room for an escape, trying to avoid looking at the men before me. The bigger man had already proven, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I was no physical match for him, and the shorter man that was advancing on me seemed to be an even bigger threat.

The desperate need to run intensified when poncho's expression darkened at my refusal.

"Take off your clothes," he growled again as he advanced.

A cold sweat broke out over me, especially when I realized that they were between me and what appeared to be the only exit. I was having trouble not panicking over the fact that I had been saved from certain death to apparently be used as a fucking cock sleeve. I would have rather been left to the horde.

"N...no." I stammered as I shook my head, my refusal pathetic and terrified even to my own ears.

With just two long, bow-legged strides he closed the distance between us, towering over me. Green eyes glared hotly down a narrow freckle dusted nose as his nostrils were flaring, from either rage or exertion, and a full chapped mouth was set in a hard line amongst the scruff of his beard. The man was _massive_ , probably double my weight and about a foot taller than me. It was as if his very presence was sucking the air out of the barn, and my legs almost gave out when he suddenly grabbed a fistful of my shirt.

"I won't tell you again," he snarled.

The tears started falling. I couldn't help it. Standing there with this huge man towering over me I allowed myself the tears I had denied the horde. That death I could face bravely. This... this was something else entirely.

"I will fight you, every second of this," I promised him in a tear-choked whisper.

"WOAH! DEAN!"

An arm suddenly shot between us, restraining the green-eyed man who snapped his angry gaze away from me to look at the taller man who was pulling him back. The giant raised his eyebrows meaningfully as they looked at each other for an intense second before turning to me with an expression that belonged on a kicked puppy.

"We're not... we just want to make sure you weren't bitten, not..." the giant's voice trailed off awkwardly.

Poncho's eyes widened, and suddenly he was halfway across the room with his hands held up, a look of pure horror and disgust splashed across his face. It left me, breath trembling from between my lips, swaying. I sagged against the wall as I continued to cower away from the men, my mind reeling.

"Fuck, god," the giant looked stricken, his hands running agitatedly through his longish hair as he looked back at poncho before looking at me again. Poncho looked like he might be as sick as I was about to be. "No, _god_ , no. We... we aren't going to hurt you. We just want to make sure _you_ aren't hurt, I swear."

The sudden relief that flooded through me, the realization that I was not about to be violated by these two men after being saved from certain death, made my already weak legs fully give out. My back slid down the rough wooden wall until my ass hit the dirt again. When it did I drew my one good knee up to my chest and buried my face in it so I could quietly cry in sudden overwhelming relief. I don't know how long I silently trembled, but I recognized the huge hand that hesitantly began stroking my hair.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," the giant murmured, his voice full of regret, "we didn't mean to scare you. Dean can be kinda intimidating, but he didn't mean anything by it. He just wanted to make sure that you haven't been bitten."

I nodded in understanding as I sniffled against my knee, trying to get myself under control before I looked up at the giant. He had hazel eyes, and his expression was genuine as he was crouched in front of me, trying to make his huge frame as small as possible.

"Can I check you over real quick? I just need to be sure." He asked softly.

An injury check was totally understandable.

Wiping my eyes with my right hand as I nodded I shifted and held out my left arm so he could get started. He didn't say a word as he touched me, and it was obvious he knew what he was doing as he deftly gave me a quick medical pat down before glancing back at poncho, whose name was apparently Dean. Dean hadn't moved from where he had retreated to, but he was looking at the giant expectantly.

"She's good, her knee is fucked though," he told him before looking back at me with a small smile. "My name is Sam, by the way, that's my brother Dean."

I nodded, but when I glanced up at Dean he wasn't looking at either of us, and was instead scowling over his shoulder as if he was listening to something outside the barn.   
  
"Pleasantries can wait," his sudden words were low and dangerous, "we need to move."


	3. You wanna go where?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader gives and receives slightly dismaying information.

There was the steady sound of breathing and a pulse beneath my ear as I rested against what appeared to be a warm, broad back. The whole world was gently rocking in time with a steady rhythmic crunch of footsteps on gravel as I lifted my head, trying to make sense of my surroundings.

"Hey, you're awake," Sam's voice was bright as he met my eyes with a small relieved smile, and I had to blink at the fact that I was meeting him almost face to face.

That was when I realized Dean was carrying me across his back.

Even as my circumstances dawned on me, Dean glanced over his shoulder at me, "You comfortable back there Kitten? We have a little further to go before we stop for the night."

"How long have I been out?" I asked quietly as I unstuck my cheek from his jacket and peered around, noticing that the sun hanging in the western sky. The last thing I could really remember was struggling to keep up in the dark, and the guys allowing us to stop against a car for a moment for me to catch my breath. Now we were still walking through barren farm fields only just starting to spring weeds along an abandoned two-lane road, birds singing merrily all around us.

"A while," Dean answered as he adjusted my now conscious weight a little better in the makeshift sling he had around his shoulders. "but you needed it, and that knee needs a rest. I take it you were up that tree for a while."

"Couple of days," I confirmed as I licked my dry lips.  
  
"Here," Dean held a Snickers bar up to his shoulder, "you must be starvin'."

I tore into it gratefully, groaning a little as the chocolate hit my tongue, washing it down with the water that Sam passed to me.

"You want some more?" Sam asked, offering another bottle of water as I polished off the first.

"Yeah, thanks," taking another swig I looked around, not seeing anything distinguishing that marked our location, "Where are we?"

"Somewhere outside Sacramento, west of the river is all we know," Sam answered as he looked around. "We're trying to figure out how close we want to try and get to the city to find a bridge to cross it."

"Don't bother," I said flatly, my words making Dean stop, "all the bridges have been taken out near the city. You wanna cross anywhere nearby it's gonna be swimming or boat."

"You sure?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, I helped blow them up," I informed him, earning me a curiously raised eyebrow and a green-eyed stare from over his shoulder. "Not that I would recommend trying to get to that side of the river anyway."

"Care to elaborate on that one Kitten?" The curiosity in his voice was palpable.

"Attempted city containment measures when everything first went down backfired, spectacularly. I was with the fire department." I explained. "In desperation we ended up blowing up all of the bridges to try and contain the horde from overrunning the whole suburban area. Not that it worked to contain it, it just turned the city and freeways into slaughter zones."

"All the bridges?" The dismay in Sam's voice was obvious.

"As far as I know, there is nothing that connects this side of the rive to that side, not until you go way further north." I told him honestly.

"That complicates things," Dean muttered as he shifted my weight again and began moving forward, his stride still easy.

"I take it you guys aren't local?" I asked with a small chuckle, which earned me withering looks from both of them.

Sam's lips quirked in a grin though when he asked, "What gave it away?"

"There's more than one way to cross a river, and trust me when I tell you that we loved our water sports around here. Crossing the river isn't the problem. The problem is the fact that most of the population on that side of the river has been turned, and so far the river seems to be the only thing keeping this part of the valley as clear as it's been." I said as I handed the water I had been drinking back to Sam, who was frowning at me as he took a drink himself before handing it off to his brother.

"This place hasn't exactly been free and clear hon," Dean huffed, sounding a little annoyed.

"The population of Sacramento before the flood of people fleeing plague had been one and a half million people."

Dean stopped in his tracks again, and Sam was looking a little green as he looked at me, but they needed to know what they were talking about trying to walk into.

"The estimates with the tent cities that had sprung up were pushing us closer to five million and most of the population was turned. You get to a high point, and it's just a sea of them. That's not taking into account the mass that's starting to come up from the south. The rivers are the only thing that has kept this section of the valley protected so far. The spill from the North Bay has been bad enough around here." I had been on both sides of the river, I knew what I was talking about.

"Holy shit." Sam breathed.

"Why do you guys want to cross the river anyway? I thought most people were trying to get to the coast." I asked.

Dean shook his head, and from where I was against his back I could see a muscle tick in his jaw. "We need to get to South Dakota."

I blinked. The Badlands? "Why?"

"Our uncle is out there, in Sioux Falls. We need to try and find him." Sam said with determination.

I looked at him like he had lost his mind, "You're kidding."

His expression told me he wasn't, and I blinked at him in shock before trying to look around at Dean, who was resolutely staring straight down the empty road at the distant shimmering mirages caused by the sun. They started walking forward again in silence, their strides falling into the easy ground eating gait they'd had before.

"I found my brother at Stanford from Kansas," Dean finally said quietly with a voice full of conviction, "and Uncle Bobby is more stubborn than I am. If I can find my brother, we can find Uncle Bobby."

"You came out here all the way from Kansas? _After_ the outbreak? To find your brother in a massively overrun state?" I asked him, glancing over at Sam for confirmation of that little bit of insanity even as Dean just grunted. Sam's jaw clenched, but when he nodded I looked at Dean in a whole new light. Holy. Shit. Fuck it. Why the hell not? I had nothing to lose and was officially past my expiration date. "... South Dakota, it is."


	4. The first night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trying to sleep when so much has changed can be hard.

Dean and Sam were strangely touchy-feely with each other. They were also incredibly good at talking to each other without saying anything, which was a little disconcerting. A look or a shared touch between them apparently spoke volumes. It spoke of an intimacy and trust that I hadn't really seen shared between two people before. It wasn't, I noticed, sexual in any way though; it just spoke of a comfort and familiarity that was almost instinctual on a level.

I also noticed that they had no intention of letting me out of their sight anytime soon, and so I had been for all intents and purposes actually been abducted by these guys... or adopted, whichever way you wanted to look at it. It wasn't like I was ungrateful either way; I would have been dead if it wasn't for them, and so far my only complaint was the fact that I was being coddled like a child by these guys to the point of feeling a little awkward about it. Considering everything that couldn't really be considered a complaint.

Apparently, I was no longer alone, for good or ill.

Their habit of casually touching each other was also apparently going to extend to me as well.

It started when we stopped to rest for the night and Sam had taken the first watch. Fire and light were always dangerous out in the open, and so our small encampment amongst some scraggly willows was shrouded in total darkness. It was too bushy to set up my comfortable hammock, and I was still too exhausted to do much more than lay there on the ground and try to ignore my throbbing knee so I could sleep. So shuffling around a bit, I stretched out in the dirt and closed my eyes, trying to get lost in the sounds of the evening around us.

Every time I started to drift off, however, I jerked back awake with my heart in my throat. It was a two-fold fear; first was the anxiety that my imminent demise had instilled in me. The second was the fact that even though they had saved me, these guys were still total strangers and hadn't exactly given me a choice when it came down to their company. I had every logical reason to be scared.

Dean's arm had then suddenly snaked out of the darkness and grabbed me, which didn't initially help. With a startled exhale of air I had once again found myself pulled against a firm chest I couldn't escape, and the sudden movement had caused me to start shaking.

"Relax," his voice was low and rough in my ear, but the command was gentle. His hand began stroking up and down my arm in a   
soothing, rhythmic manner, petting me like one might a skittish animal. It wasn't actually an inaccurate comparison. "You're safe. Get some sleep. We aren't going to let anything happen to you."

I nodded, still shaking a little despite his reassurance. I found sleep elusive as the night hours ticked away. As I lay there stiffly in the arms of the strange gruff man who had saved my life my mind raced. Even as I lay there though, his hand continued to stroke my arm even as his body rested securely against my back. The whole embrace was incredibly intimate, but he was not making it sexual. It was honestly incredibly comforting and secure once I let myself relax.

The reality was I had been saved by these two men who seemed to have nothing but good intentions. There was no reason for me to not make the most of the situation.

Dean went still when I relaxed, his hand coming to rest on the dirt before me as his heavy arm was draped over me. When I brought my hands up to touch his where it lay he kept it pliant so that I could manipulate it. His hand was blunt and heavy, his arm thick and powerful, as I brought his hand closer to look at it. His nails were in desperate need of a scrub, but from his callouses, I could tell that he was no stranger to working with his hands. My curiosity had maneuvered his huge paw right in front of my face, and I sniffed.

"Your hand smells like a road flare," I commented quietly.

That caused Sam's giant form to snort, and I felt Dean's chest vibrate with a silent chuckle. His arms momentarily tightened around me in a brief, comforting squeeze. I squeeze his hands back in response.

"Thank you," I said after a moment, "both for saving me."

Sam's big hand stroked my hair again as Dean gave me another squeeze.

"Get some sleep," Sam said quietly, "You've had a long few days."


	5. tail chasing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the dawn breaks things are new, and there are possibilities out there.

When I awoke with the first bird calls the next morning I was in much the same position I had drifted off to sleep in, only my cuddler had changed.

As I stirred I felt Sam wake up immediately behind me, his arms both serving as a pillow and draped over my waist like an anchor, but his body was still. Again like with his brother, the position was strangely intimate, but instead of making me feel threatened I felt safe and secure. When I glanced around Dean was sitting just a few feet off, watching us, his expression guarded with no small bit of caution in his eyes. It was understandable, I was the alien element here for them.

Well, I still wasn't entirely sure about them either, but one thing for sure I was no longer scared of them. Bringing my hand up to rub my eyes I yawned as I continued to look at Dean.

"You didn't wake me for watch," my soft accusal broke the morning silence.

Sam pulled me hard against him again, a strange parody of the embrace that had whisked me away from danger and into this new existence with these two men. Bringing my arms up to wrap around his Orangutan like arm, I hugged him back. Whatever this was, I wasn't going to question it. I was just gonna roll with this weird intimacy and trust that had been immediately fostered. It felt right, despite the fact that I still hadn't even told them my name.

Dean ran a hand through my hair with a small smile before he turned away and rummaged through one of the packs, pulling out a few granola bars. Sam gave me another squeeze before letting me go and we both sat up, Sam getting up to relieve himself in the pre-dawn twilight. I couldn't help the full yawn and stretch that my body demanded as I accepted the granola bar, feeling surprisingly rested. I had slept like a rock, deep and dreamless.

"Eat up Kitten," Dean said as he passed me a bottle of water to accompany the food as he cast a slightly wary glance around the morning mist shrouded field we were camped next to. "We need to get moving, this area is still way too exposed."

"Who gets what today?" Sam asked in between bites of his own granola, addressing Dean.

"I'll take her again," Dean responded to him, jerking his head towards me.

I realized they were talking about me like I wasn't even there, and as if I didn't have a say in what was going on. It made my eye twitch.

"Pardon?" My voice was positively acidic; I was not some wilting flower damnit.

Both looked at me, Sam looking like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar at my tone and then flinching when he saw my narrowed eyes. Dean looked non plussed however, and at my expression, he raised an eyebrow. Deliberately he dragged his eyes down until they rested on my fucked up knee, and then dragged his gaze back up to my face. The look on he was giving me clearly asking if he really needed to voice the obvious. Ah. Right.

"As I was saying, I'll take her again," he said as he turned back to Sam, "and you can play pack moose."

"Why do I have to play pack moose?" Sam grumbled, sounding like a disgruntled kid.

"Because you're the youngest and I said so," the snark in Dean's voice made me snort, "and you've always liked to brag about those muscles."

Conversation was lacking as we moved through the empty farm fields, but there was no lack of communication. Both brothers were constantly reaching out to casually touch each other, the simple contact speaking volumes, and in turn, they were also casually touching me. I was a little surprised at myself when I realized I instinctively always knew which one of them it was who laid a hand on me and that I didn't once flinch from it. It was almost like something had shifted overnight, and now being around these guys seemed as natural and familiar as breathing.

It was during those treks, back and forth, constantly moving, that I got to know Sam and Dean a little better. Small passing comments revealed that Sam had been going to Stanford for law school and that Dean had been a mechanic in Lawrence Kansas, where they had grown up. While they had been very close as children due to the death of their mother, they'd had a bit of a falling out when Sam had left for law school. One that hadn't been patched when their father had suddenly died in a car accident, either.

Apparently, Sam had been very surprised when Dean had appeared at Stanford to find him. Dean's response had been to call his brother a little bitch and tell him to shut the hell up and stop being stupid.

It was also clear that we had all lost people when everything had happened.

I had my husbands cracked glasses and police shield in my bag. Sam had a picture of a pretty college-age blonde girl he looked at longingly from time to time when he thought no one was looking. Dean had a dog-eared picture of a pretty brunette woman with her arms wrapped around a young boy who was beaming a bright smile full of promise at the photographer, and a simple gold ring on a chain around his neck. The boy in the photo had to be about seven, and there was no mistaking where he had inherited his freckles and olive eyes from. We all had the ghosts of those we had lost haunting us as we struggled to survive in the middle of the Sacramento Valley.

It wasn't until we passed the same old farmhouse the fourth time in a week though that I finally snapped.

"Ok, I get that you guys want to figure out how to cross the river, but we are not going to do that walking back and forth over the same stretch of farmland." The exasperation was plain in my voice as the guys made to start walking again from where we had stopped for lunch. I adored these guys, but for fuck's sake, I was sick of being carried around for no reason with no direction by guys who were apparently determined to force march _everywhere_. "We need to stop, hole up for a few days and come up with a plan."

From where he had been about to swing up the packs, Sam stopped, blinking at me in surprise, "What do you mean?"

"I mean that this back and forth shit is doing nothing but wasting time, energy and resources we are sorely lacking." I pointed to the soft butter yellow farmhouse that was sitting a short distance down a nearby dirt road, "We are about to pass that place for the _fourth_ time. I say we stop passing the damned thing already and check it out."

"And... what?" Dean asked as he stood over me with a frown on his face.

"Well laundry for one," I said with a sour look, "because no offense, but you guys don't exactly smell like a bed of freaking roses and neither do I. It's a place we can hole up, try to relax a little, and _plan_ something. Maybe look over maps, find likely river crossings, _whatever_ we need to do. It's something, and it sure as hell beats the aimless marching."

The boys shared a look that was long and significant, Sam even full on pulling a bitch face until Dean rolled his eyes in annoyed exasperation.

"Fine!" Dean exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air in defeat, which made me smile at him. "We'll check out the freakin' farm."


	6. a moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A moment of rest and reflection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter.

"Sammy, comme're."

Dean's voice stirred me from where I was sprawled in the nest of pillows and blankets that littered the mattresses we had dragged into the living room of the farmhouse. Craning my neck I watched Sam silently and obediently pad over to his brother on huge bare feet, captivated by the scene that was unfolding before my eyes.

Dean was standing by the large white stoneware kitchen sink, barefoot and shirtless, with his hair hedgehoged around his head in wet spikes. On the counter next to him was a kettle set on a small camp stove to heat up the water he was using to _wash Sam's hair_.

The whole display was sweetly domestic as Sam leaned over the sink to give his older brother better access to his shaggy locks, and I could hear Dean humming as he worked. His big hands were gentle and sure, and from where I was sitting I could see that Sam's eyes were closed and his face was relaxed and serene. This was obviously not the first time they had played this scene out.

As he was rinsing Sam's hair Dean glanced over at me, "Don't get too comfortable out there sweetheart, you're next."

Smiling, I hummed in pleased acknowledgment.

The old yellow farmhouse had been remarkably intact, apparently having been far enough out of the way of the masses to go relatively untrampled. We had also been lucky enough to find the pantry still fairly well stocked, as well as being outfitted with an old pump action well. So long as we didn't draw any attention it would be very easy to camp out for a bit to get our bearings and make a plan over the next few days. That wasn't to say it had been empty of the undead, but the six that had been inside had been easy to lure out into the fenced yard and dispatch once we had gotten the doors open without a lot of noise.

I was glad that none of the occupants had been children; they still kinda got to me.

After dispatching the previous homeowners I checked them over to try and determine how they had initially died. There hadn't been a mark on them to indicate how they had been infected and turned. It _still_ bothered me even though it wasn't the first time I had seen it. The virus had at first spread indiscriminately, infecting people like a deadly flu over the course of a couple of weeks _world wide_. This outbreak had to be manufactured in some way, this virulent _thing_ that was killing us all because, by the time the first victims were turning, it was too late.

Now it only spread by body fluid exposure, but the initial outbreak made it obvious to anyone paying attention that whatever this had been, it hadn't been natural. It was what had made everything impossible to contain and why we had been so overrun so quickly. Millions of people, all over the world, had turned in a matter of weeks without a scratch on them. It was the root of the questions I really wanted answers to; what the fuck had happened and why the fuck had some of us been spared?

Not that any of that mattered anymore, not with survival being the name of the game now. Things like fault and blame had no more meaning.

Never the less, if I magically found out who was responsible for this, and somehow was actually able to get my hands on them, I was going to kill them. Slowly. Until then, however, I was going to bliss out in being able to just have a moment to breathe for the first time since the outbreak had happened. 


	7. South shore blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danger can come out of nowhere, and chaos makes it impossible to keep track of anything.

Fighting with the clips of my pack my feet pounded down the wooden slats of the dock ahead of me in a desperate cadence. Lurching behind me I could hear them coming; the groaning too close for comfort as I fought to free myself of the constraints of my pack and put as much distance between myself and the undead as possible. When the straps fell free and the pack fell heavily from my shoulders I put on a burst of speed, ignoring the twinge in my knee, diving headlong off the end of the dock and into the pristine blue waters of Lake Tahoe. The cold was shocking, driving me back towards the mountain air, but not enough to drive me back to shore. Breaking the surface I didn't spare a glance behind me as I began to swim desperately towards the collection of private boats still moored a short distance off.

The thought of something being beneath the water, waiting to drag me down with an outstretched hand as I swam deeper, almost made me backpedal. Almost. The horde that I had just fled, however, was a pretty great incentive to keep fucking swimming. Fear of the known in this case by far outweighed fear of the unknown.

By the time I reached the sleek white sheer side of the nearest boat I was exhausted. Fighting to tread water as my clothes and boots threatened to drag me under was taking its toll on me, and my mouth kept filling with water as I gasped for air. A great welling desperation choked me when I realized that the sides of the boat were too high and slick for me to be able to reach them to haul myself up, my hands slapping uselessly at the fiberglass hull for purchase. The cold of the water was starting to hit me as my churning legs stirred the warm layer on top away, causing shudders to work their way through me, giving me even less control over my flailing limbs. I struggled to reach the back of the boat, sobbing in relief as I dragged myself onto the swim platform that was there.

After gasping like a landed fish for a few moments, I pushed myself up into a sitting position and took stock of what the fuck had just happened.

The view from the back of the boat was serene and disarmingly surreal, given what I had been fleeing. The entirety of Lake Tahoe was stretched out before me, a deep blue jewel reflecting the majestic snow-dusted peaks of the mountains that encircled it. It looked like a postcard or something, it was so picturesque. Turning my head towards shore, however, the view was entirely different.

Seething on the shore, now aimless but still riled up, were _countless_  undead. The dock I had fled down was completely packed with them, some tumbling into the water as they stumbled around, unsure of where their prey had fled to, teeth still gnashing from hunger.

Their prey having had been me.

The fuckers had come out of nowhere, suddenly spilling over the railing of a parking garage that we had been walking by en mass, like a flash flood of the damned. As if an alarm signal sounded immediately the sound of shattering glass had echoed across the lake, followed by the moans that were completely unmistakable. The first floors of the two huge casinos that sat on the border of Nevada and California had given way to release what had looked like _thousands_  of the undead. Behind us, until that moment of no actual real concern, had been a slow staggering group that we had been easily outpacing. Suddenly as we were being closed in on from all sides, the stragglers were cutting off any retreat back into the once populated residential area we had skirted the edge of. There hadn't been time to think, only to run.

There was no sign of Sam or Dean now though, and that was a problem that was making my heart race.

My hands were shaking as I shoved them into my hair, pushing the wet mass back from my face, my eyes desperately sweeping the shoreline and water for _anything._  Any sign of them at all. When a gust of wind picked up and I shivered from the sudden cold that seemed to lance me down to the bone, compounding on the chill from the water, I stopped looking for them for a moment and took stock of my situation. The sun was already in the western sky, and slowly dipping towards the ridge of the mountains, and I was completely soaked. _Shit_. I couldn't stay out in the open for long, not with the chill in the air and the knowledge that the temperature was going to start dropping and fast the moment the sun was down. Casting another glance furtively around for the guys, I moved into the boat's seating area.

When I moved to the hatch that led below decks I found that it was locked tight, which meant I was stuck on the top deck in the crisp mountain air, and it was only going to get colder and I was already cold. _Fuck_. I needed shelter and quick or I was at some serious risk of hypothermia, but there was no chance in hell I was going back to shore right now. I was going to have to make due and hope that it was enough for me to survive the coming darkness.

And everything had been going so _well_  too, goddamnit.

My teeth were chattering as I huddled down in the bottom of the boat that night, surrounded by the foam I had managed to cut out of the seats to use as insulation to try and ward off the cold. With my knees drawn up to my chest to try and conserve warmth, I settled in to try and sleep. Above me, the stars glimmered like diamonds against a backdrop of the darkest blue velvet, cold, distant and beautiful. The only noises I could hear were the small lapping waves against the hull, and I tried to take comfort in the gentle rhythmic sound. When a bright white dot moved slowly across my field of vision my thoughts drifted to the ISS again, and I felt tears prickle my eyes.

It wasn't fair.

We had already made it further than I anticipated; this mad dash east with the intention to try and find one man in South Dakota. It was insane, and yet it had seemed that with a goal in mind, we had something driving us forward. I had thought that crossing the river back into the city proper would have been the end of us, but we had made it. Then we had made it through the whole city using the mostly intact elevated highway that went straight to South Lake Tahoe. Even with the straight shot, it had still taken us a couple weeks to make it as far as we had, and the close calls had been both terrifying and numerous, _but_  we had made it, together. We had actually been planning on camping on the eastern side of the mountains and planning our next move forward into Nevada, with the goal to keep going east.

There had been talk of watching the sunrise together in the morning. 

That was where I was supposed to be in the darkness of the moonless night, playing teddy bear to the guys and sleeping like a baby after discussing our next move. Not freezing to death in the bowels of an abandoned boat, wondering if in the morning I would see painfully familiar faces milling about with the undead.


	8. Not alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Separated and on her own... but is she alone?

My breath had been misting in front of my face when I had slipped back into the water with the dawn breaking over the eastern mountains, the water making my breath leave me in a shocked gasp from the cold. I concentrated on keeping my breathing measured and calm as I fought to keep myself moving despite the bone-deep chill as I swam for shore.

The mass had dispersed during the night, leaving the beach totally void of any bodies, living or dead, when I pulled myself from the water. The swim back to shore seemed even further than the swim out had been, and left me with teeth audibly chattering as I went looking for the bag I'd been forced to drop in my desperate flight for my life. Unfortunately, something had apparently gotten there first because it was long gone. It left me with only the ice ax and knife I'd had on my belt, the wet clothes on my back, and boots that squished with every step.

I didn't take the time to dwell. A horde like that would break into smaller packs with nothing to actively chase together, and now loose they would be wandering maelstrom pockets of bullshit. The only thing I could do was move and try and put distance between me and wherever the hell they had gone, and fast. There was no telling where the hell they had gone under the cover of darkness.

I was thankful that the South Shore was something I was more than familiar with, having been all over the area and the mountains in the area every time I had the ability. I needed to head south, to the junction of highway eighty-nine and eighty-eight. It was less than twenty miles in a straight line from where I was, but there was a bit of an incline in the way in the shape of a mountain, not to mention actually making it through the residential areas. It was, however, my best bet to meet up with the guys... if they were still alive.

It was something we had discussed after we had passed into the Tahoe Basin; where we would meet if we were somehow separated. Hope Valley was one of my favorite places in the entire world but was fairly unknown and off the beaten path. Remote with lots of resources, I knew the whole area like the back of my hand; every abandoned mine shaft, forgotten service road, and fishing hole. There were places I could hide and secure if I needed to. This was my backyard, and I would be damned if I was going to die here. Not yet anyway. Not until I knew for sure that it was just me and that there was no actual hope left in Hope Valley.

Only as I started really moving, the familiar and unwelcome pain in my knee intensified, with every single step I took.

GOD. DAMN. IT.

I didn't make it more than a few blocks before I had to stop and brace myself up against a wall, hissing from the pain as I pressed my hand down on my leg, putting pressure on the swelling joint. I could feel the heat through my wet denim, dread flooding my veins as the reality settled around my shoulders.

I couldn't run. Hell, I was going to be lucky if I could continue to walk in a few more hours if what I was feeling was anything to go by. _Fuck_ , this was one of the last things I needed.

Right after the fucking horde of about thirty of the damned mouth breathers that suddenly started moving through the intersection just two blocks up from me. When they all stopped and suddenly started jerking their heads around like they had sensed something my breath caught in my chest. I froze like a deer in headlights. If I was lucky they would simply keep on shuffling by, and I would remain unnoticed. If I was unlucky they would be able to shuffle faster than I could hobble, and I would die. I needed to decide if I was going to hold my ground and hope that they didn't see me, or try and flee.

It all depended on if they were sensing me, or something else.

Before I could make up my mind as to how in the hell I wanted to react, the zombies suddenly started dropping like flies. Like, literally. It started from the front, and then systematically moved back through the group. I stayed right where I was, leaning against the wall, blinking at the scene.

A scene that made a hell of a lot more sense when the unit of well armed and uniformed soldiers suddenly moved into the intersection. Staying still, I watched as the group of nine men moved in to make sure there were no loose ends amongst those that had been felled. Four of them took up positions facing in every direction while the other four went through with large knives, driving them methodically into the skulls of the felled undead. The last man seemed to be the one in charge, overseeing everything. All of the soldiers had suppressors on their weapons, which explained why I hadn't been able to hear the shots.

Biting my lip, I hesitated to reveal myself. These men were obviously professional soldiers, but it _was_  still the end of the world. Trusting Sam and Dean was one thing, trusting nine random armed men was something else, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to risk it.

Not that I really got the choice; not when the dark-haired soldier who had taken the north watch suddenly lifted his weapon, taking obvious aim right at me.

 _Shit_.

Putting my hands up I pushed away from the front of the building but didn't move further, watching as the soldier quickly alerted his comrades to the fact that they were not alone. Moving together they walked briskly towards me, scanning the area like the professionals they apparently were. I watched them approach warily, debating my options. My knee didn't even want to support my standing at that moment, much less any attempt at flight, and without my arms wrapped around my torso, the slightest breeze was cutting through my wet clothing. I was without supplies, injured, freezing and outnumbered. I was totally fucked if this went pear-shaped.

When they got close enough the majority of them held back, well past the police 'twenty foot' proximity rule. Only the dark-haired soldier that had first seen me actually approaching closer than twenty feet, and he still stopped about ten feet away. The soldier had bright blue eyes and looked both earnest and severe at the same time, as if he almost didn't believe what he was seeing. I stared straight back at him as he gave me a once-over with his weapons still held up, waiting to see what he was going to do as well as I shivered and dripped onto the pavement. It was only after he had apparently convinced himself that I was actually human that he lowered his gun, stepping forward, his expression concerned.

"Are you ok miss?"


	9. A soldier's honor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morals are private. Decency is public. - Rita Mae Brown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> attempted non-con I guess?

"What do you think you're doing Commander?"

The voice was low and full of fury, and I recognized it as the voice of the blue-eyed soldier who had first approached me, although I didn't tear my eyes away from the son of a bitch that was in front of me to confirm it. I held very still as the man smirked superiorly down at me, reaching up to touch my now dry hair again. I didn't break eye contact as I violently slapped his hand away.

"Don't you fucking _touch_  me." I snarled.

The air around us was crackling with tension, and all the men were still, watching the scene unfold as we stood at the fork in the road where I had been planning on parting ways with the soldiers. Apparently their commander had other ideas.

"You really are a pretty thing, aren't you? I'm sure you could spare us some time, we'll be nice to you," the tall black man murmured, his tone saying everything as he chose to ignore both me and his subordinate. The way he was looking at me made my flesh crawl, and I clenched my fists.

"Raphael...," the warning growl came from somewhere behind me, all pretense at formality gone.

"Really, Castiel?" their commander snapped, his eyes leaving mine to look over my head at the soldier behind me. His hand snaked out to suddenly grab my arm, jerking me towards him. "You're going to challenge me over _this_?"

My foot crashing down with every ounce of my strength on his knee, causing it to audibly crack as his leg buckled beneath him, threw a wrench in whatever machismo bullshit he had been planning. Even as the man shouted in both surprise and pain, releasing me to flail as he lost his balance, a hand tangled in the back of my still damp shirt and I was jerked backward, pulled behind the broad shoulders of the blue-eyed soldier who had his weapon up, shielding me from the rest of his unit with his body. I stumbled, my throbbing knee not handling the strain well, but managed to keep my feet.

"You're god damned right I will challenge you over this," Castiel snarled, his voice deadly and his weapon steady, "I should fucking shoot you right now."

"Really?" The man's face was pinched in obvious pain as two of the older soldiers in the unit held him up, his leg obviously unable to support him, breath panting out through his nose. "You're going to betray your brothers over a _whore_?"

"Oh, I don't know about a whore," another voice said, and I watched as the shorter blonde soldier detached himself from the group, raising his weapon to aim at his fallen commander as well, "but even if she was one, yeah, totally."

"Gabriel?" Castiel's tone was questioning, but his weapon held steady on the felled glaring man who had the sweat from the pain his leg was causing him beading his brow. He was puffing enraged, pained breaths as he watched us with murder in his eyes. As the two older men continued to support him I watched three more detach from the group to train guns on them. It was five against four, and none of the four had dared to draw a weapon.

"I'm with you, brother." The blonde, Gabriel, said as he moved to stand shoulder to shoulder with Castiel, the other men moving towards us, weapons aimed cautiously at those still surrounding the fallen man. The whole situation was tense, the men exchanging furtive glances amongst each other as if trying to make sure that this was _actually_  happening.

"The fact that _any_  of you are still standing by him is sick," The tallest man in the group spat, literally, at their feet. He didn't even try and hide the contempt in his voice. "Really Uriel? Zachariah? _Bartholomew_?"

The men's faces twisted in anger as their names were said, but they stood their ground, fingers twitching as if they wanted to go for their weapons. The only thing that stopped them was the fact that they had already been drawn upon, and were very outnumbered.

This turn of events was as surprising as it was relieving, and I hadn't been expecting any more surprises in my life to be good ones. The standoff seemed like it wasn't going to let up anytime soon, but then the moans reached us and I turned to see that the wounded man's scream had garnered a lot of unwanted attention. We needed to bolt because we were about to have a lot of very undesired company.

"I would take this opportunity to flee." Came the almost bored British tone of a tall blonde with calculating eyes, but his body posture was threatening towards the man who had wanted to assault me, "for the next time we see you, we will treat you like the god damned marauders you are that we _swore_  to protect people against."

"You would dare?" the tall blonde from their side snarled, taking a step forward with a face that could be considered handsome ugly with twisted rage, which caused every hand on a weapon to tense.

Gabriel cocked his head to the side, thumbing back the hammer on his pistol audibly, "I will not hesitate to shoot you, Bart."

"I'm trying to pretend our brothers haven't proven themselves beyond redemption already," the British man growled, his voice dark and dangerous, the look on his face a mix of disgusted contempt as he kept his weapon trained on them, finger resting on the trigger.

The youngest in the group, a kid that didn't look like he could even properly shave yet, stepped back to me while the standoff continued.

"Are you ok?" He asked me quietly while he kept a wary eye on the tense situation unfolding before us, "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"No, I'm fine, thank you," I reassured him, proud of how steady my voice came out even as I could feel my hands shake. Glancing at the mass that was moving towards us, nervously licking my lips as I took in the size of the horde, I spoke softly, "but we need to move, right now."

The young man gave me a terse nod, his eyes darting to the horde as well. As if some unspoken cue had been given the men started to move as a unit, the young soldier dropping his weapon to sling my arm over his shoulder to help support my weight. The four men they had been staring down didn't move as they watched us pull away, but we didn't get far before they started moving down the other branch of the fork, trying to make sure that they too stayed ahead of the danger we were fleeing.

I wasn't entirely sure what the hell had just happened, but I was god damned grateful. I knew for sure that we needed to flee the horde, that the men around me were officially good people, and that I still needed to try to see if Sam and Dean were still alive. The rest could be dealt with later.


	10. Meet the garrison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our lead gets introduced to her newest allies, officially.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit it only took me 10 chapters to finally get to her freaking name. o_O

"My name's Samandriel... Alfie," the young soldier said quietly as he helped me wrap an ace bandage he had pulled out of his pack over my knee, securing an instant ice pack to the swelling joint.

We had all been traveling in tense silence for a couple of hours as we tried to put distance between us and danger, the going slow as I had led them off of the main road and up the much steeper hiking trail that encircled the lake. A hiking trail they had been apparently oblivious to the existence of, which told me that they weren't locals. The kid hadn't complained as he had helped me guide them all, bearing a good portion of my weight the whole way. The Tahoe Basin trail wasn't ideal with my leg, or with the fact that we needed to get to Hope Valley ASAP, but it was too steep for Zombies to follow us on, which made it safer.

"Alice," I responded with a smile that the kid looked both grateful and relieved to receive. "Thanks for all the help, and for not being a bastard."

"You should never have even been put in that situation, to begin with," Castiel snarled from where he was standing guard at the trailhead, his expression still clouded with rage when I looked up at him.

"I should have shot him," the British soldier intoned with the kind of expression that told me that he wasn't kidding.

"Now now, brothers," the man named Gabriel said placatingly, but there was a dangerous edge to his voice still, the threat still as plain as when he had been holding a gun on the other man, "I'm sure Raph is regretting getting his knee blown out so spectacularly, and I am sure he will have more regrets in the immediate future."

"It would have been more than his knee if he hadn't drawn the horde," Castiel growled.

"That was a nice kick, by the way," the tallest man in the group said with a tight smile, obviously trying to ignore the tension that was still vibrating the air around us, "I'm Gadreel. You've met Samandriel. That's Novak, Balthazar, and Gabriel."

The men all nodded in turn as they were introduced officially, the British soldier named Balthazar looking around the pristine mountain setting before speaking, not really addressing me, "What is the plan now, anyway?"

"The airport is going to be hard to reclaim," Castiel replied with a frown, "and there's no way that they won't fight to keep it from us."

"Airport?" I asked the young man kneeling before me as the surrounding soldiers started talking about the strategies they wanted to employ to retake the position.

"Our objective was to secure the airport for future supply drops when we were stationed here during the outbreak," Alfie explained as he helped me roll my pant leg down over the bulky dressing, "it's the most easily defensible space with have in the area."

"Fuck the airport," I responded with a snorted laugh, causing all the men to stop talking and swivel their heads collectively to look at me. "What? Let them fucking keep it. That's not a defensible space, it's a fucking death trap. You're lucky you weren't overrun before."

"Oh? And what would you know of it?" Balthazar's tone was condescending, and I realized in that moment that he had actually just dismissed me as a 'girl', and not actually a capable survivor.

I narrowed my eyes at him, "I was part of the Last Line."

Balthazar straightened a little, suddenly looking at me as if he was just now really seeing me as the others exchanged significant looks. The Last Line had been considered the last line of defense to keep the plague at bay when everything had really gotten bad; a team of professionals who had been coordinating all of the evacuations and strategies all over the country. I had been with the West Coast branch, stationed in Sacramento with the rest of the team of military, EMS, and CDC planners. When the cities had fallen, it had been the Last Line that had stayed behind to ensure as many civilians could be evacuated as possible.

Being a part of the Last Line had been a suicide mission outfitted with the best chance anyone had of surviving the outbreak, and everyone had known it. My survival hadn't been random fucking chance or luck in any way, my survival had been fucking earned.

"So, what do you suggest then?" Gadreel finally asked me, the question sincere.

"First we need to get the hell out of here and I need to see if I can find the guys I was with before we ran into that horde last night," I told them as Alfie helped me to my feet and I tested my leg with a bit of weight, "Then, we figure out re-supply and figure it out from there."


	11. what's in a name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> reunions all around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow was I tired when I wrote this. I hope it makes sense.

"Kitten?"

The knot of tension that had been resting just under my sternum, aching with every beat of my heart, instantly vanished as relief flooded through me at the welcome growl. The soldiers that surrounded me reacted predictably as they tensed with weapons up and trained on the new threat, not that I blamed them. Dean's voice, despite the innocuous word, was deadly and threatening in the extreme. It was obvious that one word from me would cause him to throw himself at the small group of armed men that surrounded me. When he revealed himself from behind the overturned RV that partially blocked the highway we were walking up he looked exhausted but otherwise ok. Somewhere since we had been separated he had found a shotgun, and he was holding it steadily aimed at the men who in turn had weapons trained on him. Neither side looked like they were going to give an inch.

"It's ok!" I said quickly before anything could go wrong, "It's ok, they're good. They helped me, kept me safe."

Dean cocked his head, eyeing the group warily, obviously distrusting of the soldiers that surrounded me. When neither side moved to lower their weapons I shouldered past Castiel and Gabriel to reach out to him. He didn't hesitate to lower his weapon once I cleared the men and sweep forward to pull me into a crushing embrace, his arms completely enveloping me. With his nose buried in my hair, I felt him draw in a deep breath, some of the tension in his big body releasing. Behind me, I could hear Castiel and the others lowering their guns.

"Dean?" Sam's questioning voice came from behind us, and I twisted to look back at him emerging from behind a tree on the other side of the road, a hunting rifle being lowered from his shoulder.

"She's ok Sammy," Dean's voice sounded a little choked up from where he had his face pressed into my hair, "she's ok."

I clutched him back, choking up myself a bit, thanking whatever fates were watching that they were safe. I don't know what I would have actually done if I had made it to the crossroads and there had been no sign of them. I didn't want to think about how much that would have crushed me. I clung to Dean as Sam wasted no time shouldering through the soldiers to get to me, drawing me away from his brother for his own crushing hug.

"Fuck, we were so scared," he whispered.

"There were more of you before," Dean commented, his tone suspicious as he rested a hand on my shoulder while Sam still held me tight.

"Yeah, there were," Gabriel agreed, the edge in his voice obvious as he gave me a significant look, "we had a bit of a difference of opinion."

Sam went stiff, turning his body to look at the soldiers, both brothers practically vibrating as they processed just what that meant. I could practically feel the rage rolling off of them as they had their suspicions confirmed simply by the looks on the soldier's stony faces.

"I broke the fuck out of the one guy's knee," I said, breaking the tense silence, making Sam look down at me with a raised eyebrow.

Balthazar snorted out a laugh, "Oh Alice, my darling, it really was a thing of beauty."

Sam looked puzzled suddenly, and his eyes snapped up to Dean's face. As I looked over at Dean I saw him mouth 'Alice?' in confusion back to Sam, and I grinned.

"It never occurred to you guys that you never asked me my name?" I asked with a chuckle.

Dean looked suddenly embarrassed, even as Castiel shared a very confused and significant look with Gabriel and Gadreel, Balthazar narrowing his eyes as Alfie openly scowled.

"... I thought you said you've been traveling with these guys for a while?" Gabriel asked warily, his eyes holding a bit of distrust as he looked at the brothers.

"She has," Dean defended, suddenly flushing when he realized the truth of it and how it looked even as I kept chuckling, "she just... we call her Kitten."

"And that's because...?" Castiel frowned.

"I met them when they rescued me from up a tree that a horde had cornered me in," I laughed, "called me 'Kitten' ever since. It fit."

Balthazar puffed in amusement, and just like that the tension eased. The brothers shared a significant look, Sam releasing me as Dean finally stepped forward, offering his hand out. Castiel stepped forward to meet him with a solid handclasp, giving him a tight smile as introductions went around. The olive branch being extended between the men was tenuous, but it was there, and I was grateful for it. 


	12. The salt flats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group finds some more survivors, and Alice wins them over with a little insider information.

"Well, the good news is that we can totally avoid them massed like that," Gadreel said casually as he glanced at the state map we had laid out on the pavement, his finger tracing the highway as it cut through the first salt plain we were coming across as we entered the state of Utah. Cas glanced over at it, nodding from where he had been conversing with Gabriel and Dean as they talked about where we were going to go next.

Ahead of us was a seething gray mass; a large dark lump in the middle of the glaring white expanse of the salt flat. We had been following highway eighty as the fastest route across the country to South Dakota, but it had been clear the moment we had emerged from the foothills we were going to have to change our plans more than a little. The undead were pressing against the buildings of the rest stop with a single-minded intent that made my gut clench.

"So there's no problem then," Alfie's young voice sounded relieved, and the sentiment was shared by the casual way I could hear the guys softly commenting to each other.

"Except for the people stuck in that rest stop."

At my words, all conversation died.

I turned and looked back at the men, motioning at the zombies congregating below us, "See how they're not just milling around? They're pushing against those walls. There's only one reason they would focus on a building like that."

"Jesus," Gabriel said it like it was the most blasphemous of swears as he looked out over the scene with new eyes.

There was no more relief amongst the guys at our fortune to the horde's distraction. It had been replaced with tension and purpose as they tried to calculate how to overcome the situation before us. The way they reacted eased my own nerves, however, and they didn't even have to say anything. It was clear in every line of their bodies; that desire to help, the instinct to rush headlong into danger to try and save another person instinctively ingrained. These men were the reason I was able to sleep at night.

They gave me hope.

"You guys up for a challenge?" I asked, eyeing the cars that were abandoned on the road around us.

"You're serious?" Balthazar's incredulous tone made me look over at him, and I noted that he was looking at me like I was insane.

"As the plague," I grinned.

"And how do you expect us to help those people down there and not get killed, _Kitten_?" He demanded crossly, his tone more than a little condescending. It wasn't lost on me that he used the pet name the guys had given me as if it was some kind of conceding thing, and not a term I found to be nothing other than endearing.

Sam snorted, and Dean just grinned smugly at the soldiers, who were eyeing me a little dubiously. I shared a look with my boys, grinning. It was pretty awesome to know that they had complete and unquestioning faith in me.

"I'll tell you what, you stick with being a grump with a gun and leave the creative solutions to me, mm'k _pumpkin_?" My voice was so syrupy that it was downright cavity causing as I reached out and patted Balthazar's cheek. He just grunted and stepped away, waiting for me to give them all direction.

"So what's your creative plan?" Gabriel asked. 

"I will begrudgingly admit this was a good plan," Balthazar groused quietly as we moved swiftly across the moonlight illuminated salt, the terrain glowing all around us negating the need for any kind of light source. I flashed him a grin, which he returned, his teeth glaring with the same glow as the salt.

On the ridge where we had first seen the horde a fireball raged, the bright flames leaping into the night sky as the small collection of cars I had gotten the guys to push together roasted. The whole time we had been hurrying along the flats we had been chased by the occasional sound of exploding gases, which worked their intended magic. Most people really didn't understand how wonderfully cars burned, nor how _long_  they could burn. That fire was going to roast for DAYS, and it had pulled all of the zombies towards the ridge where it was raging, leaving the area clear for us.

As we approached the buildings and the cars amassed around them, Castiel held up a hand signaling for us to hold back. Sam, Dean and I held back while the soldiers did their job, making sure that there were no surprise stragglers before one of the guys gave a single whistle in the dark. At that, we moved up to the only building that still had an intact door where the guys were standing, taking up familiar watch positions.

The door pulled open and was one of the heavy re-enforced metal kind you only ever found on cheaply made government concrete buildings. It also didn't lock, and it was only the fact that it was a pull open door that had saved whoever was shut inside, the press of the horde having kept it closed way more efficiently than any lock ever could have. Whoever was stuck inside had both been blessed and cursed with the fact that public bathrooms tended to be built like freaking bomb shelters.

We pulled open the door, Balthazar immediately swinging in with the flashlight on his weapon switched on. He didn't move into the room though when he illuminated the scene inside, instead, he stepped to the side once he passed the threshold to make room for others to follow.

The reason why was immediately apparent as we were faced off with a small, snarling, middle-aged Asian woman with wild eyes wielding a crowbar. Huddled against the brick wall behind her cowered a high school aged boy who I was betting was her son and a college-aged red-headed girl. All three of them looked like they couldn't have really fought their way out of a wet paper bag, but I wasn't about to underestimate the woman with the crowbar. The image of a mother bear protecting her cubs immediately jumped to the forefront of my mind as I looked at her, and I had no doubt she had no intention of going out without a fight.

"Hey, it's ok, we're here to help," I said softly as I stepped into the bathroom, knowing that out of everyone in the group I was going to be the least intimidating. I used the same voice I had used to coax more than one jumper back from a ledge, both physically and metaphorically, "We're not here to hurt you, we're just glad to find fellow survivors. What was it? I.U.D.? Hysterectomy?"

The woman blinked rapidly, her stiff posture relaxing at the sound of my voice. The two kids huddled against the wall peered up at us with hunger pinched, tear-streaked faces, their expressions a mix of hope and disbelief. It looked like they had been shut in the bathroom for a while, and I couldn't imagine how torturous it must have been for them, and I had been in the same kind of situation. They had probably been completely convinced that they were going to die in there. 

"Menopause..." the woman finally answered, her voice soft as she swayed on her feet before her eyes rolled back in her head and she collapsed into a heap, her crowbar clanging against the concrete.


	13. Birth control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they hid in the hills to heal before getting back on the road, and a new detail to the plague comes to light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, so the last chapter had some terribly written sections that I apologize for. This chapter is also short... with this thing not actually having much of a plot it's being a bit of an ass trying to get from scene to scene. Hopefully it picks back up soon.

Mrs. Tran, who insisted I call her Linda, was a freaking force of nature and I loved her instantly. It didn't surprise me in the slightest that she had managed to keep her son and his college advisor safe when the world had collapsed around them on a campus tour. It _did_  surprise me to find out that they had actually started their terrifying ordeal in Texas though, at Texas A&M, and that somehow they had managed to get all the way to Utah before being cornered.

It told me that they were smart and resourceful as hell to have survived for so long, given the fact that they had no survival training of any kind. Charlie had been the closest thing they had to an expert, and that had simply been due to her loving to play Zombie survival video games. Hell, Mrs. Tran had been a freaking accountant who had initially been wearing heels that she hadn't bothered to get rid of for the first week they had been on the run, according to her. Kevin was an academic with allergies and anxiety. They were not exactly what someone would envision as a survival team.

Due to their condition when we found them, we had found a trailer in the middle of nowhere to hole up in. The three of them looked like holocaust victims, their only saving grace being that it hadn't been long-term starvation that they had been victims of. That meant that the refractory period was going to be quick and not full of terrible complications, which was good news. The mobile home we'd discovered was poorly stocked although nothing was expired, and the water had a stale taste to it in the tanks but didn't seem to be fouled. The tracks leading into the nearby hills, along with the tools stored around, revealed that the thing probably belonged to a prospector. They had obviously been trying to seek their living from the earth for a time, although there was no way to tell if the trailer had been abandoned before or after the end of the world.

Still, it had an outhouse, and enough space to be able to take care of the three newest additions to our family until they were well enough that we could move on without putting them at risk. It might as well have been a palace.

Linda was with us less than a day before she was mother-henning the shit out of all of us, not that we minded. No one had a single complaint as she went around, making sure that everyone drank their water rations and ate their protein bars when we stopped for breaks after we finally left the trailer. The woman was sharp as a whip, and it was way too much fun to listen to her put Balthazar or Gabriel into their place with a couple of catty responses to their constant sass. To be honest, her taking on the mother role of the group was great for morale.

Sometimes all you really need to keep you going is to feel like you are cared for, and that you matter to someone. Linda was pretty good at making everyone feel that way, to some degree or another.

It was probably a big part of the reason that Kevin and Charlie had survived with her for so long. Well, that and I was pretty sure that Mrs. Tran was some kind of crazy warrior monk. It was pretty obvious that the woman was a badass.

It wasn't until we were back on the road that Charlie asked me about when we had found them though, and the question I had first asked.

"Why did you ask Mrs. Tran if she'd had a hysterectomy?" she asked quietly, so as not to be overheard by the guys that were surrounding us as we headed back down the main road, her hands holding her pack straps nervously as she looked around for any sign of the undead.

I gave the girl a look, "I take it you have some kind of long-term birth control?" I asked her instead.

She nodded, glancing at me with a confused frown, "Yeah, an implanon... why? Are you on something?"

"I've got an I.U.D. You get your periods anymore?" I asked, giving her a _look_.

It dawned on her, I could see it in her face.

"Yeah," I clarified her unasked question with a humorless grin, "they can smell blood like _sharks_. Birth control is basically the only way you're gonna survive this as a chick right now, no matter how skilled you are. Figured you guys had to have something to have made it this long. This plague is full of patriarchal misogyny."

She frowned, pouting out her bottom lip adorably for a moment, "Mother _fuckers_ ," she hissed, giving me a glimpse of the girl that existed beneath the fear.

I threw my head back and laughed, causing the guys near us to look over in confusion. I simply waved them off and bumped her shoulder with my own in silent camaraderie, happy in that moment despite the circumstances.


	14. You're gay... and?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie reveals some personal information, Balthazar is... himself, and our main character might be a little dense. Just a little. Like... a smidge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, you guys commenting and shit keeps me going. <3 thank you for enjoying this randomness as much as I am, and this is organic, you all know where this is going about as well as I do... so if there's something you kinda wanna see, please do tell and if it works it's in. 100% ^_^

"So... what is the story with you and the 'guys'?" Charlie asked as we stopped for the night and made camp, looking pointedly at the tall figures of the two brothers who had been the reason we were on this mad dash east.

A small distance off, Sam and Dean were bowed over a map with Cas, talking quietly amongst themselves as they pointed to various crossroads we were about to come to. Setting up camp or standing watch, the rest of the guys also moved around comfortably. Kevin and Alfie were chatting on their bedrolls a small distance off, Linda and Gadreel preparing some food for the rest of the group while Gabe and Balthazar did an occasional sweep of the surrounding area. The motions were comfortable and familiar, and I was grateful for the sense of security they provided.

"They found me up a tree and adopted me," I told her with a grin.

"Really," she said flatly, causing me to laugh.

"Hand to god," I chuckled as I laid out the sleeping pad I always shared with them. When I looked back up she was looking over at them with a bit of a frown, and I hesitated only a moment before I said, "There's... not really anything going on there... if you're interested in them or something."

"What?!" Her head whipped around so fast I was a little worried about whiplash, and her eyes were wide with horror, and then she flushed and dropped her gaze, "N...no! They... they aren't my... type."

She said the last word so quiet it was almost inaudible, looking up at me fearfully. It took me a moment to realize that she was actually scared of how I was going to react to her statement.

"Are you honestly worried that I'm gonna be weird now that I know you're gay?" I asked as I reached out and put my hand on her shoulder with a small reassuring grin, "It's not a problem Charlie, and if it becomes a problem with anyone, I will kill them."

She blinked, and then her face broke out into a huge, relieved smile as she threw her arms around me, hugging me with everything she had.

"Thank you," she whispered.

I pulled back and put my hands on both her shoulders, looking her in the eye, "That is not something you should be thanking me for sweety, _no one_  should have a problem with that."

She looked a little ready to cry as she nodded, and I gave her shoulders another squeeze as Linda came up to us with a couple of cans of soup and a slightly worried expression. We turned, and Charlie gave Linda a watery smile and held a hand out to her as the woman sat down with us. Linda took it, and I watched as they squeezed each other's hands in silent communication for a moment before Linda smiled at her in return, the tension in her shoulders relaxing. When she turned that smile on me and reached to take my hand, giving it the same kind of squeeze she had shared with Charlie, I knew that the three of us were on the same page.

"You ladies doing each other's hair?" Balthazar quipped as he paused by us, his weapon causally resting in his hands as he kept guard, interrupting the moment.

"Why, you jealous?" Linda sassed right back as I pulled a face and gave him the finger, earning a scoff and an eye roll.

"Of course he's jealous," Gabriel said as he came over and plopped himself down on my bedroll, stretching out on his side and giving us all a wink as he chewed on a candy bar, "he's going bald, while we," he ran a hand through his shaggy golden blond hair for emphasis, "look fabulous."

"I am _not_ ," Balthazar looked aghast at the accusation.

Gabe grinned at him, "There's no shame in it, it happens to most guys, but you know... not me."

"You know Richard, you really are a dick sometimes," The glare Balthazar shot Gabriel had no heat in it, and it made Gabe laugh even as I snorted at the horrible pun involving Gabe's first name, "but at least I'm not the short one."

"Oh woe is me, I'm the short one with great hair." He made a kissy face at the other man, who grinned back, "Don't be jelly."

"I think we can all agree that Sam has the best hair," Charlie spoke up.

"Huh?" From opposite the campsite Sam looked up, and had to reach up to push his mop out of his eyes, "did one of you guys need me?"

We all shared a look and then broke down into a fit of giggles.

"What was all that earlier?" Dean whispered a little while after we settled in for the night.

We were in a familiar position, Dean spooned behind me with his arm around my waist while Sam lay on his back and I hugged his arm, my cheek resting on his shoulder. It was how we went to bed almost every night unless one of them had first watch now that we were no longer a simple ménage à trois.

"Hmm?" I hummed sleepily.

"That thing with Charlie," Sam explained in hushed tones so that we wouldn't disturb anyone else, "she looked upset."

"Oh, we were just talking. She was asking about you guys and me, and I thought she might be interested in you or something, that's all." I murmured.

Both bodies went very still, and I chuckled when I saw them sharing a look in the dark, "don't worry guys, you're not her type."

"And you are?" Sam asked.

I hummed in agreement, snuggling in. 

"Is she yours?" Dean asked softly after a moment.   
  
I hummed negatively, sleepily stating, "She's pretty, but I generally prefer sausage to taco."

At that they both relaxed, as if a weird tension had bled out of them. I hummed happily when they both gave me a little squeeze, Dean kissing my shoulder even as Sam kissed the top of my head. It was comforting, and I felt myself drifting off even as I heard Dean whisper "Goodnight Kitten," as Sam laced his fingers with mine.


	15. waking up is hard to do.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alice wakes up somewhere new, and horrible, but makes some new friends.

"Hey."

The woman's voice pierced through my sleepy fog, but my head was pounding so bad that I didn't want to open my eyes. I could hear my pulse thudding in my ears, and my nose was full of the acidic stench of dog piss as I lay on a freezing concrete floor. Ugh.

"Are you awake?"

I groaned, and somewhere nearby I heard the sound of fabric rustling.

"Hey, come on, open your eyes."

Wincing against the lights that were turned on overhead I blinked... and tried to make sense of just what the fuck was going on and where the hell I was. When I tried to move I had to strangle a shout; my right arm felt like it was being electrocuted. Trying to move it I found that it was secured with a set of handcuffs to the chain link fence making up the _dog kennel_  I was currently being confined in. I was wearing nothing more than a hospital gown as I sat up, hissing as circulation was restored to my dead arm, curling my body around the offending limb. What the _FUCK_?

"Are you ok?" came another woman's voice, and I looked up to see that I was not the only one handcuffed to an animal cage in a hospital gown.

Across the way from me was a woman who was probably about ten years older than me with short cropped mousy hair that was going grey. She was sitting with her back against the fencing in her own kennel, watching me carefully with her wrist also cuffed to the chain link. Directly next to me was a woman who looked to be my age with long dark hair and a heart-shaped face that was full of serious concern as we made eye contact. She was in the same situation too.

"I'm in one piece, I think" I answered them as I flexed my tingling fingers, reaching my free hand to feel the lump on my head as I looking at our bleak surroundings, "but this situation is far from ok."

The woman across the way snorted in amusement, sharing a grin with the dark-haired woman next to me before they both looked at me again.

"I'm Meg," the dark-haired woman offered.

"Jody," came the voice from across the way.

"Alice," I replied instantly, "and what the fuck is going on?"

"Well, nothing good, obviously," Meg said with a bit of a sarcastic smirk that was forced, although I appreciated the attempt at levity. Just by looking at them, I knew that I was in the presence of others in uniform. It was something in the way they were reacting; a kind of calm in the face of a vortex of bullshit that only first responders of some kind had. I was betting some sort of service; military, police or fire, maybe even ER staff. There was just something about them that was familiar, and it was comforting to know that whatever _this_  was, I wasn't alone in it.

"You been here long?" I asked. They looked tired but didn't look like they were wasting away or anything, which made me think that the answer was going to be negative. Our current accommodations were not exactly ideal for keeping a body healthy and thriving.

"Just a couple days longer than you, we're just outside of Salt Lake City," Jody answered, an underlying current of anger and frustration in her tone. "We got suckered in, found a woman named Naomi who claimed to be a doctor who was with a group of survivors when we were foraging a little ways off. She led us back here to her _cult_  and drugged us. We woke up in here. I didn't think another woman would do something like this to us, not given the state of things."

"Cult?" I queried.

"Yeah," Meg sounded unamused, "they call themselves 'the chosen', think they have been selected to help re-populate the earth or some such shit. They plan on collecting as many women as they can for it."

My thoughts darted to Charlie and Linda.

"How did they get you?" Meg asked.

"I'm not sure," I answered honestly. "I was going on a quick supply run with a couple of the guys from my group. I don't remember getting knocked out or anything, and then I woke up here."

I really hoped that Cas and Kevin were ok. We had just been running back to a truck stop we had already cleared to grab some more supplies that we hadn't been able to carry on our first run through. There hadn't been any sign of anyone there, either living or dead, both times.

Well, until _this_  development at least.

"You were with a group?" Jody was looking at me earnestly, hope in her voice, "Do you think they'll look for you?"

"Oh yeah, they will," I assured her with a laugh, watching them share a relieved look ay the news, "and even better I know they'll find us, and they are gonna be more than a little pissed."


	16. The dame says

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something terrible has happened to Alice, but she has no intention of laying down to die without a fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, I'm not killing her.

I only ran far enough to find someplace secure enough to hide and take stock of my situation, even as the cramps rolling through me bordered on debilitating. It was imperative that I come up with a new plan, one that was a little more complex than 'run', and fast. I didn't have long before I attracted too much unwanted attention either. So, when I saw the untouched fire station on the edge of town I got an idea; an idea that blossomed into a full project when I climbed in through the window and discovered the whole building intact.

I found not only the station totally deserted and untouched since the last crew had left, but that the gauge in the big yellow fire truck read that the fuel tank had three quarters left.

My plan had nothing to do with justice, and everything to do with revenge. It was half-assed and fueled by rage, but it was better than fucking _nothing_. When the big diesel engine of the fire truck caught and turned over, I shrieked out loud in satisfied triumph, uncaring of what I attracted. It didn't matter anymore.

I left the rig running in the closed garage as I gathered the supplies I had salvaged from around the station, getting ready to put my terrible plan into glorious action. There had been a woman at this station, and she was one size bigger than me in the clothes, and her shoe size had been two sizes bigger. The gear was better than nothing, and I was grateful there was more than one set of it, grabbing it and other scattered uniform pieces I had found.

Meg and Jody would be needing all of it in the very near future.

There had also been protein bars and a stash of Gatorade in one of the cupboards, which I grabbed and tossed in the cab, along with a handful of other useful items that I found stashed around. A couple of gym bags, bandages, and other medical supplies, tools, flashlights... anything someone needed to have a chance to survive.

I lit the bloody hospital gown on fire in the trash, curling my lip as the stupid blue fabric blackened and burned. I couldn't help but contemptuously spit at it.

Then I stepped into the familiar feeling of bunker pants, pulling on the suspenders and cinching the waist before making sure they weren't going to trip me up over the boots I'd had to stuff the toes of. It was like coming home. Shrugging on the jacket, I left it hanging open as I pulled my hair back into the messy bun I never wore anymore, too aware that it was easy to grab by the undead. Shoving the heavy leather gloves into the pocket of the jacket I looked over the rig one more time before hauling myself up into the driver's seat and pulling on the headset.

It was like riding a bike as I automatically turned on my radio and checked my mirrors and gauges. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I was in complete harmony with myself in that brief shining second as I revved the engine, wearing gear that had been like a second skin for most of my adult life. Then a cramp rolled through me, bad enough that I felt like I was going to vomit, and I clung to the steering wheel hissing in pain until it passed. Feeling the warmth of the blood seeping out of my body to soak the clothing I was wearing was like a slap in the face. Reality came crashing down around me, and my rage kicked back up from simmering to boiling.

I was going to kill them _all_.

The huge rig shredded the garage door as I drove straight through it, only wincing a little at the shrieking protest of the metal as I pulled out onto the road. Keeping my foot on the gas as I headed towards the main street that would lead me to my target, I ignored the squishing sounds of the undead I drove over that had been congregating outside of the building I had been in. Instead, I reached over and grabbed the iPod I hadn't initially noticed plugged into the rig's radio. My grin was downright feral when I turned it on and realized that the owner had been a very angry feminist if the music collection was anything to go by. It was only fitting I guess, seeing as it was her gear I was probably gonna be buried in.

I threw it on random and immediately was greeted with angry lyrics and fantastic beats in the headset.

My head was bobbing to the music as I clenched my jaw and gripped the steering wheel, making my final turn to get the perfect aim at my target, pausing for a moment to take stock of the scene laid out before me. In a straight shot, on the other side of the small town, was the animal shelter they were holed up in; the assholes that had fucking killed me. There were a few cars blocking my direct path, but they looked like they were spaced out far enough that I would be able to get up some good speed without having to worry about losing control of the rig when I dodged them. The more speed for what I was about to do, the better.

I revved the engine at the end of the main street as _The Dame Says_  by Ivy Levan began blaring in my ears. I reached down and flipped a switch, the song suddenly blasting the air through the speakers of the rig to get the attention of anything that could hear it. I let the words and the beat pulse through me, getting my blood up as I steadied my nerves for what I was about to do, checking my seat belt.

Shapes running at the edge of my peripheral vision had me turning to my window, and my heart tripped when I saw Dean's frantic face as his mouth shaped my name in a shout I couldn't hear over my headset, his brother right behind him. For a moment, seeing them, my resolve wavered.

Then another cramp rolled through me.

The snarl was back on my lips, and I swear I heard their voices shouting over the engine as I slammed my foot down on the accelerator and slammed the rig into gear.

Blocking out the fact that they were there, I kept my eyes on the prize. I reminded myself that I was a dead woman anyway and having a change of heart now would only condemn the others who I had been locked up with. Still, I spared a glance in my rearview mirror, trying to ignore the emotions that wanted to choke out my wrath as I saw the men spill out onto the road in my wake. My rage was useful, my grief was not.

Pulling my eyes away from the mirror and the guys who had become my whole world, I looked out my windshield and at the target I was about to ram. As I jumped the curb I felt myself scream in triumph when I saw that bitch Naomi's shocked expression in the glass doorway. A doorway that I was just milliseconds from plowing into.

She killed the wrong bitch, and she was about to find that out in the most lethal of ways possible.


	17. To kill a cultist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alice proves that sometimes you really shouldn't fuck with someone who has nothing left to lose.

It really doesn't matter how prepared you are for an impact; smashing a moving vehicle into a stationary object of sufficient size _sucks_.

Despite the damage crashing the rig had caused I couldn't have been slumped over the steering wheel for too long. I was stunned from plowing a twelve-tonne rig into a freaking _building_  but as I became aware of my surroundings chaos was still reigning all around. The building was groaning from the sudden partial loss of structural support, and the air was filled with dust and the smell of burnt rubber. People were coughing, screaming, crying and calling out to each other.

Someone was screaming Naomi's name, and just like that, I snapped out of my shocked fog as I remembered. Meg. Jody. The guys.

Naomi ripping my fucking _I.U.D. out of my body_  so I could be a fucking _breeder_  for her fucking _cult_.

At that thought I moved with purpose, ignoring the physical discomforts that tried to distract me as I unclasped my harness and reached overhead to grab the fire ax mounted to the cab roof. I jerked it down just as the driver's side door opened to reveal one of _her_  people, wearing a stupidly surprised expression when he saw me. He shouldn't have been surprised, it had been mere hours since I had gotten loose from these assholes, and I remembered him, standing by the door talking to Naomi before she had grabbed the speculum while I had been tied to the veterinary table.

Bringing the heel of my boot smashing into his face with a snarl, I moved to exit the cab.

He fell back with a shout, landing on the floor hard as he pressed a hand to his face to try and hold it together from the kick I had tried to put through his face. I hopped down with my eyes locked on him, and when he saw my expression he held up his bloodied hands in a truly pathetic attempt to ward me off. It didn't do a fucking thing to deter me as I brought the ax blade smashing down in an overhead swing on his sternum with a scream of rage, even as he opened his mouth to beg. His eyes bugged out one last time before a mouthful of gore spewed forth and his body went slack.

One down, many fucking more to go.

The cultists were stunned stupid as they watched me plant my foot in the dead man's gut and wrench my ax free. The rig was still running and the music was still blaring, making everything seem like it might be out of a horror movie as I turned to them. It might as well have been for I had no intention of allowing a single one of them to live.

They knew it too as those petrified with shock look at me in terror as I stood there in my bunker gear gripping a blood-splattered ax over the body of one of their own. They had _all_  been a part of that bitch's plan, they had _all_  been on board with everything she had proposed doing to us. Even if some of them managed to flee, I was going to do everything in my power to hunt them the fuck down and _end them_. The cultists seemed to sense it too.

It was only when I turned to them with obvious murderous intent that they erupted into true panic. In the chaos, they were suddenly dashing all over the place; trying to escape me and the bits of the building that were still coming down around us.

Another groan from the building though had me doing a slight mental reassessment of immediate priorities. The groan I had just heard was more of a warning knell than just the building settling, and as I glanced up I knew it was just a matter of time before the roof dropped. It meant that I needed to go and save the people I had actually come to save before I went on a revenge rampage if I wanted to _actually save_  anyone.

Reaching up to grab the duffel I'd prepared, I moved towards the kennels in the back, hoping I wasn't too late and that I could get them out before the building I had damaged came down.

Both Meg and Jody were on their feet, fingers wrapped in the chain link as they pressed themselves to the front of the cages that housed them, trying to peer towards the front where all the commotion was. Neither of them looked worse for wear.

"Alice!" they both cried in relieved unison as I rushed over to where they were, dropping the duffel and extracting the bolt cutters I had shoved in with all the clothes I had grabbed.

"We don't have a lot of time," I quickly snipped the chain link the cuffs were attached to before moving to cut the locks off the cage doors. The chaos in the front of the building was still going strong from the sounds of everything.

"What did you do?" Jody asked as she stepped out into the walkway and immediately started pulling clothes out of the bag, pulling on one of the pairs of pants immediately, "we thought you escaped earlier."

"I did," I grunted as I cut through the lock on Meg's cage, "and then I drove a fire engine into the building."

"Holy shit," Meg laughed, her voice a bit shaky as she pushed open her door and pulled me into a quick hug before grabbing the pants that Jody held out to her, "I think I love you."

I almost laughed, but then a truly debilitating cramp hit me, and I cried out from it, dropping to my knees as I clutched at my abdomen. The pain was so immediately intense that my stomach rolled and I heaved up the bit of food I had shoved into my gut before going on this suicide run. Someone was kneeling next to me, and I felt a hand rubbing my back as I retched, letting out little choked gasps with every stabbing pain in my gut.

"Earlier, when they took you away..." Meg's voice trailed off, and I looked at her from the corner of my eye as she tried to soothe me. Her face said everything.

"They pulled out my I.U.D," I told her as I wiped my mouth with my sleeve, a fine tremor starting to wrack my body.

There is only so far you can push yourself when you're in mild shock and fueled by rage and adrenaline. At my admission, Meg's face crumpled, and she shared a look with Jody. They knew what that meant as well as I did. It was at that moment that I realized that the chaos from up front had died down, and struggled to shove to my feet.

"We have to go," I gasped, falling heavily into the chain link as my body refused to cooperate with me.

Jody was dressed as she slung my arm over her shoulder, and Meg grabbed the gear. Jody didn't even have my weight fully supported before Meg was dressed and picking up my discarded ax and the bag, bunking out like a rigger getting called to a three-alarm fire. They didn't exchange words, just a curt nod before they moved with Meg in the lead, Jody helping me as I struggled to keep the shock from winning out even as I felt the blood running down my inner thigh.

Footsteps thundered at us, and both women braced as I looked up to see what fresh hell we were going to have to deal with, resolved. Relief, however, was the only thing I felt when I saw who was in the doorway.

Unfortunately, the change in chemistry in my body was enough for the shock to take full hold. Even as I heard voices crying out my name I sagged heavily against Jody, the trauma of everything starting to finally overcoming me. 


	18. A salty elephant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No one really wants to address the elephant in the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part has been SUCH AN ASSHOLE to write, thus it is short. Sorry.

"She's going into shock!"

"Alice?!"

"Who the hell are you?!"

" _What happened?!_ "

"We need to get out of here!"

"The building's coming down!"

"Did they do this?!"

" _I'll rip their fucking lungs out!_ "

"We have to move!"

"I can hear undead!"

" _ALICE!!_ "

The sky was starting to glow pink and gold when I opened my eyes, the last of the stars still glittering in the greying blue twilight of pre-dawn. The morning air was cold, and misting in front of my face, the small sounds of waves lapping up against a hollow hull the only sound to break the stillness. For a heart-stopping moment, I was transported back to that terrible morning on Tahoe, waking up uncertain and alone.

And then the smell of rotten eggs assailed me, and I realized I was decidedly _not_  on Lake Tahoe.

"Easy there," Linda's voice was soothing as she lay a cool hand on my forehead, "You're alright, everything's ok."

I licked my parched lips, swallowing as I looked up at her in the darkness, "What happened? Where's Jody? Meg?"

She smiled at me, but it didn't really reach her eyes as she began to pet my hair, "Just stay calm, everything's going to be just fine."

A cramp hit me, but the pain was muted and caused me to do no more than flinch and grunt, my hand coming up to press against my lower abdomen. Drugs made everything fuzzy as I became aware of the IV line and fluid bag I was hooked up to as it hung from the awning that was half above me. Glancing around I realized we were on an open pontoon party barge in the middle of a vast lake, the Great Salt Lake judging from the smell. Meg was passed out on the bench seat directly across from me, but we were otherwise alone.

"Stay down, you need to take it easy," Her tone was gentle but her hands firm as I tried to sit up.

When I stopped fighting she adjusted the blankets she had draped over me that had slipped at my movement. She fussed for a moment, checking my IV bag and line, took my pulse, and then settled. Her eyes were weighty with everything we weren't saying. She knew. I could see it on her face.

"Is she awake?" Meg's voice interrupted us.

She was sitting up, rubbing a fist into her eye as she yawned, her dark hair a total mess. The woman looked absolutely exhausted.

"Yeah, she just woke up," Linda said quietly, not relinquishing her seat as she pet my hair and held my hand like a mother comforting a child.

"How are you feeling?" Meg asked solicitously as she came and went through the same routine Linda had just done with the familiarity of a nurse.

"Like I drove a fire truck into a building," I joked, "how the hell did we get out on the lake? Where is everyone else?"

"Everyone else is totally fine, you weren't kidding about your guys," Meg smirked down at me, but it didn't quite reach her eyes either, "when you told me you had a unit of soldiers I was expecting the army, not whatever herd of unicorns you've managed to gather. There was some shouting, some posturing, and then they hatched whatever plan they hatched, and now, we're here. Safe."

"Here being the Great Salt Lake?" I confirmed.

"I take it the smell tipped you off?" Linda asked dryly, and I squeezed her hand where it was resting on mine as I grinned at her before turning my attention back to Meg.

"We needed somewhere safe to treat you, give you a chance to recover. You got pretty bad for a bit with how you were pushing yourself and all, almost didn't make it through the night." Meg wasn't looking at me as she spoke now, instead fussing with my drip setting on the IV bag.

"Yeah, well, there was a reason for that."

At the quiet gravity of my voice, they didn't say anything more. Instead they just shared a weighted look before turning back to me. With help, I sat up and together we watched the sun come up over the hills and illuminate the buildings of Salt Lake City, glinting off the steel and glass. It was a peaceful moment, and I closed my eyes to bask in the warmth of the rays on my face.

A shout broke the morning stillness, and I opened my eyes to see a small fishing boat making its way towards us. Charlie and Kevin were sitting in the bow waving their arms frantically at us in greeting in the morning mist. Also in the boat, Sam was fussing with something at his feet while Dean had his hand on the tiller. My heart swelled at the sight of them even as my stomach dropped and I didn't know if I should cry out for joy, or just break down crying.


	19. Reality's a bitch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alice gets into her first real disagreement with the boys, and Dean loses his temper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loves me some team free will... and some angst, 'cause I can. :P Also... thinking about some potential Jody/Balthazar...? 
> 
> Also warning for mention of contemplated suicide if you feel like you need one.

They were all laughing and congratulating each other on the haul they had managed to find, both in the two huge houseboats they had pulled up and the boat load of supplies they had managed to snag. Dean was laughing as he shook Jody's hand as she was stepping off the supply boat with Balthazar and Gadreel, Sam securing their line. On the back deck of the houseboat, I could see Kevin and Charlie slapping a high five with Alfie, Gabriel laughing at something with Cas, Linda, and Meg as they finished tying off the houseboat. They were all acting like everything was ok. Like what had happened to me wasn't a death sentence.

"Guys, stop. Please."

Collectively they froze and turned to look at me as I stood on the party barge, not moving to join them. My heart felt heavy as I looked into the faces of my family, both new additions and old, and I knew what I had to do.

"There's no point in pretending," I said with a calm I was still surprised I could manage, "we all know that I'm dead... It's only a matter of time. I'm... I'm going to go. Off. On my own. To... go out on my own terms."

The only sounds to be heard was the wind and the lapping of the lake against the boat hulls, the tension in the air so palpable it made my skin feel tight. But I was right. If I had been bitten, most of them would offer to lend a hand of assistance. This was no different, even if they didn't want to see it that way right now. The small distance that separated us now seemed like a huge gulf of space, and it was slowly becoming apparent that this was going to come down to a battle of wills.

"Everyone dies eventually," Balthazar said very carefully after a moment of utter stillness had passed, "but not all sooner rather than later."

"Some sooner than others," I countered with a pointed look.

It was then that Dean moved, detaching his hand from where it still held Jody's with a deliberate slowness as he turned towards me fully. His jaw was ticking and his eyes were unreadable beneath his scowl as his bow legs carried him forward. He held his hands out as he began to approach me, and it wasn't until he stepped over to the deck of the party barge that he paused.

Looking over his shoulder, his voice was rougher than usual when he said, "can you please give us a minute?"

Charlie opened her mouth like she was going to argue with him, but I watched Linda reach up and put her hand on the girl's shoulder, giving her head a slight shake. Charlie's jaw snapped shut, and she gave me a wet-eyed look but didn't say anything as she allowed Linda to guide her towards the door of the Houseboat. One by one they filed in, some being ushered by others as they stared stonily at me, not willing to back down and concede to the truth.

Soon it was just me, Dean and Sam.

"Kitten..." Dean started pleading, taking a step forward.

"Don't Dean," I clenched my fists and took a step back defensively, even though the threat wasn't physical, "You know I'm right."

"You can't ask us to do this, you just can't," there was a begging quality to his voice, the pleading tone of someone trying to coax a jumper back from a ledge. The analogy wasn't far off the mark, "not when we've come so far."

"I'm not asking you to do anything."

"You're asking us to give up on you," Sam said quietly as he stepped up behind his brother, his expression the same as the one he wore when he looked at the picture of Jessica he still had in his jacket.

That was a low blow, and I felt my lip tremble even as my eyes welled up with tears, "no I'm not."

"I don't see how you're not," Dean's voice was grave and far too reasonable, "you're trying to say that you're as good as dead, yet here you are, before me, breathing just fine."

"God damn you," the tears prickling my eyes ached, and I clenched my fists, wanting to punch him in his stupid face, "you _know_  what they did to me. You're not fucking stupid, you know what it means."

"So we wait for you to heal. We _deal_  with it." Sam argued.

I clenched my jaw and closed my eyes, drawing in a shaky breath as I straightened to my full, if not impressive, height. This was not the time for fairy tales, or chivalry, or daydreams. This was a time for facts and reality, and reality was a bitch with a fourteen-inch strap on, no lube, and a tight schedule. With that thought steeling me, I let my eyes open, my tears gone. I fell back into the cold, calculating demeanor that had made me good at my job back in the real world. The same demeanor that had given me the courage to stay on the wrong side of a blown out bridge to give an evacuating civilian population more time.

It could give me the courage to do this, no matter how harsh.

"Meg? Could you please come out here?" I called, loud enough for everyone to hear me.

The houseboat door creaked open as the dark-haired woman slowly stepped out. Her expression was slightly shuttered and more than a little wary as she stepped over to where we were standing. It felt like a showdown, me versus the guys, with Meg standing in the middle as if she was about to drop a flag to start off the draw. She came to a stop between us, glancing between me and the guys, waiting for me to speak again.

"You were a nurse, right?" I asked, giving her a look that made her expression harden.

"Yes," she grit out, obviously not happy with what I was about to do.

"You saw just what Naomi did to me, right?"

You could have heard a pin drop.

"Right?" I asked again, my voice grim and demanding a response.

"Yes," her lips were pressed together so hard they were going white as she ground the word out through a clenched jaw.

Crossing my arms over my chest and jutting my hip, I cocked my head to the side as I glared at the guys with narrowed eyes, "So, do you want to explain to them the _damage_  that woman did to me because I _fought_  her during the procedure?"

In front of me, Sam swallowed hard as Dean's expression darkened. Meg stayed silent, but her face spoke volumes.

"You want to explain how long damage like that can take to heal?" I continued coldly.

"Shut up," Dean growled warningly.

I looked right at him, but kept addressing her, "You wanna tell them how, even when I'm healed, it could take months for my body to start cycling normally again? How unpredictably I can start bleeding? How _every minute I bleed_  I'm a walking chunk of zombie bait, advertising for miles around? How a menstruation cycle _works_  so they get that I will do this for _days_  every _month_? How the only reason any of us have made it so far is due to some form of rendering a uterus inert?"

"Stop it," Sam begged, tears in his eyes when I met them, "please, don't do this."

"Don't do what? Talk about the thing no one seems willing to talk about? Address the issue no one wants to seem to even apparently acknowledge? That I am now a giant liability to the safety of everyone around me?" My voice was cold and emotionless, "What are you going to do Sam? Camp out with me on this lake for... what? Weeks? Months? How long? How long until those supplies run out? How long until the lake is so besieged that there is no escape and we _all_  die out here?"

"God _damnit_  Alice," Meg's soft words were choked, but they were confirmation enough.

"I understand that no one seems to want to admit this, but if I had been bitten, we wouldn't even be talking about this, you would just be handing me a gun."

Dean moved so fast he was a blur, and I found myself suddenly pushed back into the bench seat I had been standing in front of. The sensation of Dean's strong hand harshly gripping my lower face as his palm was mashed against my mouth, effectively silencing me, was more than a little painful.

"Now you look here you _bitch_ ," he snarled, his face furious as he loomed over me panting in sudden rage, "you were _not_  bitten and you are _not_  giving up, do you hear me?! **_DO YOU HEAR ME?!_** "

His last words were a roar, his eyes frantic as they searched my face, but I just glared at him, refusing to budge on this. Dean Winchester didn't scare me, and even if he did I knew I was right, and it really didn't matter if he wanted to believe me or not. 


	20. We're a family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Family arguments tend to involve the whole family in some capacity or another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *insert of Crowley and him hissing "feelings" right here*

"What if it was me?"

The choked, tear-filled voice was what finally broke the staredown, and I snapped my eyes over to where Charlie was now standing. Dean's grip over my lower face slackened slightly as we looked at the redhead as she stood there, pale and shaking with barely controlled crying, and I was aware that the others were spilling out of the door of the houseboat behind her. Her bony shoulders were jerking with small sobs, and her lower lip was trembling as she stared at me.

"What if it had been me?" Charlie demanded a little louder, tears pouring down her face as she stared at me, totally devastated.

I reached up and pulled Dean's hand away from my mouth as I looked at the shuddering girl, "Charlie..."

" _No_ ," Charlie's voice held a surprising amount of conviction, her red-rimmed eyes flashing with the emotions roaring through them, " _I_  was the one who was supposed to be on that supply run with Kevin and Cas. _I_  was the one who would have been taken if you hadn't offered to go instead because I was scared. So... what if it had been me? Would you just leave me to _die_  now because I'd gotten hurt?"

Kevin stepped up as Charlie's form started shaking more at her outburst, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder, and I looked at them in shock. I had forgotten about that; about how I had seen how nervous she had been to do the supply run, so I had gone instead, "It's not the same thing."

"Isn't it?!" She yelled with a sob, and I could see that Kevin was quietly crying too as he looked at me.

"No one is leaving me to die!" I argued, desperation threading my voice as I tried to get them to _understand_. "I'm choosing to do this, no one is _forsaking_  me!"

"That's basically what you're asking us to do," Meg was grim-faced, her eyes wet as she glared at me, "and we _won't_."

"Did you think we _f_ _orgot_  about what literally _just_  happened?" Jody's voice was hard, almost accusatory as she stepped past Charlie, looking at me like I was a puppy that had shit on the rug and needed to be reprimanded because I should know better. "You think that what, we'd just thank you for saving our lives and what? _Wave you off?_ Wish you bon voyage and good luck? _Abandon_  you because they hurt you? You made _sure_  they couldn't hurt us too. You _got away_  and instead of saving yourself, you _came back_  for me and Meg before they could do _anything_ to us. What did you think we were going to do? Thank you for your sacrifice, apologize for your shitty luck and just leave you to fucking _rot?_ "

"That's not what this is!" I cried out.

"Then what is it?" she demanded.

"I'm not worth risking the _whole_  group for! Can't you see that?! I'm a liability now, no amount of sentiment can change that! There is _no reason_  to put yourselves in danger for me! I'm going to get you all _killed_  because of this!" Desperation was cracking through my facade as I looked at the grim faces arranged on the gently bobbing decking. "Most of the damage that was done to me was because I  _fought back._ Don't you get that? I _knew_ what fighting her would mean! I  _knew_ that I was going to end up dead the moment she touched me!"

"So... you just...," from where he was standing at the back of everyone gathered I could see Gadreel's head shaking from side to side in harsh denial.

"You're worth the risk," Alfie finally said, glancing around the group when eyes turned to him. The planes of his boyish face were grim with his conviction as he looked back up at me, "everyone in our family is worth the risk. That is what makes us a family."

Jesus, the kid was so fucking young, and these people were all being so unreasonable. I was the only one sitting as I faced off with them too, making me feel like a child being scolded for joy riding with the family car. Dean had stepped back when I had started arguing with Jody, and I was searching faces for anyone who was willing to even listen to the voice of reason on this. All I was met with was a bunch of stony faces and determined stares.

"You cannot give up," Cas said gravely, his slightly monotonous tone rougher than usual, "this was always a problem we were going to have to deal with eventually. Are you saying that every woman who had survived should just give up when her birth control stops working?"

That hit me like a slap in the face.

Sam moved forward and dropped to his knees before me and took my hands in his. Even kneeling the behemoth was STILL taller than I was as I sat on the bench, "Please, let us at least try to figure this out, you have to give us at least that much."

My eyes welled up with tears and I whispered brokenly to him, "Some things you can't fix, Sam."

"Oh, that is such bullshit!" Gabriel barked from the houseboat. "God damned _Ohana_  and all that!"

Next to him, Balthazar was glowering, obviously losing his temper too as he said with a snarl, "Look here _Kitten_ , why don't you just go back to being the family pet and leave the _creative solutions_  to us, _hmmm?_ " With that he wrenched the door of the houseboat open and stalked inside, slamming it behind himself as he continued to yell to the group collectively, "If we can't keep one lousy chick alive because she's being visited by her Aunt Flow we have bigger problems facing us in the future! Now knock off the bullshit and start stowing the goddamned supplies!"

Dean's jaw was still ticking agitatedly as he glared down at me, but he didn't say anything else as he turned to move back to the supply boat. Silently the group dispersed and got to work, and just like that, the argument was over, and I had lost.

As they were getting back to work, I heard Kevin snort at Gabriel, "Did you really just quote _Lilo and Stitch_?"

"Hey, don't knock it. That's a great movie," came the retort.

Later that night I was sitting on the back of the party barge, listening to the laughter coming from the houseboat the furthest away from me. It one of the three that had been brought over as the day had worn on and the only one we had been able to figure out the stove in. While preparing dinner Gabriel had entertained everyone with his cooking antics as he had made a huge pot of spaghetti, and despite everything from that morning I could see smiles going all around as Jody and Meg were initiated into the family. It was surreal, the calm confidence that everyone was exuding over all this despite everything that had happened. After tying the four large pontoon boats together we were apparently going to try to make the best of the situation as they came up with a plan of action as to how to deal with my new liability. Apparently, I had been the only one really willing to entertain the most obvious course of action.

"Dean didn't hurt you earlier, did he?" Sam's quiet question broke my reverie, and I looked over to see him standing behind me in the shadows of the awning.

I motioned for him to join me on the padded bench and shook my head in response, "You're brother is not the grizzly bear he pretends to be."

We sat on the back bench of the party barge, looking out over the glittering expanse of the lake under the moon and starlight, as comfortable silence settled over us. Satellites drifted across the view, and I heard him draw a breath when a quick bright streak of a shooting star crossed our field of view.

"You know we love you, right?" Sam's voice broke the quiet.

I turned my gaze away from the stars to look at him and found him staring at me intently, his face somber in the white blue tinted light.

"I know," I replied, but the look that crossed his face told me that I didn't give him the answer he wanted to hear.

He reached out and placed his huge hand on my cheek, looking at me intently, "No. Not like that. Like this."

Leaning forward I felt his paw cup the entire side of my head as he leaned in and kissed me gently, his lips gliding over my own. When I made a shocked little sound against his mouth, and he pulled away, looking meaningfully at me.

"Sam?" I breathed, my heart thundering in my chest.

He just smiled gently and leaned in to kiss me again. Time was meaningless as his lips moved gently against my own, his tongue just barely coming out to play gently with my own. There was no rush, not a single hurried movement as he kissed me as if he had all the time in the world. I became aware of my surroundings again when I felt a weight settle in behind me on the bench and Dean's voice growled, "quit hogging the girl, Sammy."

Sam broke the kiss with a small chuckle, his eyes glittering in the darkness as his thumb caressed my cheek. Dean took the opportunity to wrap his arms around my waist and pull me into the lee of his body, his lips falling to kiss the junction on of my neck and shoulder as he hugged me. I enjoyed his warmth for just a moment before I pulled forward and turned so I could look back and forth between them.

"So... " I trailed off, leaving the question unspoken.

Somberly Dean took my hand in his, not looking at me as he spoke as he instead played with the difference in size between his baseball mitt and my dainty digits, "Kitten, I... I can't imagine a world without you and Sammy in it."

"We're willing for it to be a thing," Sam's quiet voice was heavy with emotion as he looked me earnestly in the eye, "we _want_  this to be a thing."

"This isn't something you guys are doing just because of what that cult did to me, is it? Becuase you don't want me to leave?" My voice was very fragile as I looked at them.

Hurt flashed over Sam's face as Dean's head shot up, mirroring the image.

"How could you think that?" Sam asked dejectedly.

I just stared at him.

Dean turned me to face him, grabbing my face in both his hands and kissed me passionately until I was dizzy for lack of air. My head was spinning as I clung to his forearms as he plundered my mouth, and when he broke the kiss it took me a moment to flutter my eyes open, blinking dazedly into his heated olive eyes.

"Tell me I was faking that," he dared.

I couldn't.

Satisfied he released my face and then turned me so that I was nestled into the lee of his body again. As if everything had just returned to normal programming as scheduled. As if they hadn't just blown my mind with those kisses. As if my mind wasn't reeling as my heart wasn't hammering away in my chest like a woodpecker on crack.

Sam just sat next to us quietly like he usually did, hand stretched out to rest over mine on the bench seat as he had his face turned towards the star-filled sky. Dean held me close like he had so many other nights of star gazing, his chin resting on my head as he too looked out over the sea of stars. It was familiar, comforting even, almost like this had always been there and I was only now just aware of it.

"Do you guys ever wonder what happened to the astronauts up on the space station?" Dean queried offhandedly after we had been sitting there for a little while. 

I couldn't help the surprised bark of laughter that escaped me, "All the freaking time."


	21. winter on the wind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They've been on the great salt lake for a couple of weeks, and a few basic problems are arising.

"Well, we can't put it off anymore. We're officially starting to run low on drinking water, and propane," Dean groused as he tossed an empty plastic jug off the edge of the boat, where it landed in the fridged lake with a splash before bobbing like a huge plastic cork, "and if it gets much colder we're gonna start having other issues. We need winter clothes, blankets, heaters of some kind... that kind of thing if we want to last until you're good."

After two weeks on the water, winter was starting to set in very suddenly, the mornings dropping below freezing according to the thermometer mounted by one of the doors. At nights dropping suddenly below thirty degrees, we had discovered something slightly unfortunate about the houseboats; they were not exactly well insulated. Worse was that we didn't have enough fuel on hand to keep them running so that we could try to use the crappy onboard heaters. Personally, I had no complaints being sandwiched every night between two living space heaters at night, but _everyone_  knew the cold was getting to Balthazar, and I suspected others who were less vocal about it. The issue was that I was still bleeding though, and it was starting to take its toll on me making me even more unfit to travel. Even with the iron supplements and blood builders that Meg kept shoving down my throat, I was suffering the effects of anemia to the extreme.

"You going to do a run?" I asked him as we gazed towards the spires of the city, the cold sunlight glinting off the glass as our breath fogged in front of our faces. I had one of the blankets from the bed wrapped around my shoulders to ward off the frigid chill, Sam not needing the extra warmth being the human furnace he was.

"We're gonna have to," the tick in his scruffy jaw was back as he propped a foot on the railing, the early morning light highlighting his handsome features and making his olive eyes glow as he studied the eerily still buildings, "but I hate the thought of splitting up the group like this for a supply run. It's risky."

"Everything is risky," I reminded him with a bit of a smile.

His lip quirked up as he huffed through his nose, "yeah, you ain't lyin'."

"We'll be fine Dean, we're as safe as we can be," I reached out of the warmth of my cocoon to lay a hand on his forearm, giving it a squeeze, "and we can't keep putting off getting supplies. You know that."

He turned to me, reaching out to cup my frigid cheek in his rough warm hand, his eyes soft, "I know, I just worry is all."

He leaned in and pressed chapped lips gently to my forehead, lingering for a moment as he moved in closer to me until the kiss melted into an embrace. I closed my eyes and just reveled in the feeling of being so close to him, soaking in his warmth as he wrapped me in his arms, rubbing his large hands up and down my back. Pressing a kiss into the top of my head I felt him sigh, resting his chin there for a moment.

"I can stay behind if you want me to Dean," Sam's sleepy voice came from behind me.

I turned to see him leaning in the doorway of the houseboat we were sharing with Kevin and Linda, still wearing the sweats he had slept in as he yawned. Dean didn't say anything, but I suspect they shared a look because Sam just nodded with a stretch. With a nod to us, he turned, scratching his shaggy head as he moved back towards our shared room.

"You should follow him, Kitten," Dean said into my hair after a moment, pressing another kiss there before pulling away, looking me in the eye while caressing the side of my face, "get some more sleep. I'm gonna go talk to Cas."

With the lingering sensation of his strong hand pushing on my back, ushering me back into the slightly less frigid interior of the houseboat, I padded back to the main bedroom.

Sam's huge frame was slightly curled as he rested on his side on the only king size bed any of the boats had boasted, half opening his eyes when I opened the door. He didn't say anything, just lifted the blanket when I reached the edge of the bed and waited until I crawled in before he drew me into the warm lee of his body. With a content sigh, his huge frame relaxed, his arm draped heavily over my midsection as his hand snaked under my layers of clothing to rest against my lower abdomen. He was so warm it was almost like having a heating pad against my skin, which I was half convinced was the reason he lay his hand like that when we spooned.

"How are you feeling?" he murmured quietly as if confirming my suspicion.

"Cold," I smiled as I snuggled deeper into his embrace, "but getting warmer by the second."

He hummed sleepily, pressing a kiss to my head in the same tender manner his brother had, his body relaxing further as he drifted back to sleep. I lay there awake, however, my body more exhausted than my mind as I ran my fingertips over the soft hairs on Sam's big ape-like arm. It wasn't lost on me that the change in dynamic in our relationship was more on my end than theirs, although they _were_  more intimately affectionate now that the dynamic had officially shifted.

The only thing that was really new so far was the kissing. Oh man, the kissing. I swear I was becoming addicted to the sensation. Sam was shameless and liked to take his time, but he seemed to try and reserve those kisses for moments when we at least had the illusion of being alone. Dean, on the other hand, pressed kisses to my skin constantly. It didn't matter where, forehead, neck, shoulder, knuckle, knee... any time there was skin near his mouth, he pressed a kiss to it. Just a quick brush of his lips. His kisses were as natural as his casual touches, and every single one warmed me to my toes. Only at night, right before we fell asleep, would he kiss me like I was a wellspring and he was a man dying of thirst. It wouldn't last more than a few moments before he would be pulling away, pressing a sweet kiss to my nose or forehead, and that would be that.

That and the lingering touches, anyway.

In the close confines of the boats, it seemed as if I was always just within arms reach of at least one of them, and the casual touching became more frequent. It wasn't uncommon to find us in some kind of simple physical contact when we were around each other either. What changed more though was how Dean's hugs would linger, or Sam's hand on my shoulder would turn into a caress down my arm. It was never lewd, and not once did I feel pressured by either of them, but I was very aware of the change in our dynamic. Not that it was unwelcome. Not in the slightest.


	22. Sweet Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alice has a bit of a nightmare (more like a bad memory) while sleeping next to Sam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hi... it's been a while... Sorry about that. This story is a long way from dead, so if you're still here, thanks and please know there is more to come!

_They were going to come through the ancient wooden door, it was only a matter of time as the old dry rot ridden frame shuddered from the impact of the mindless undead as they tried to get to us. I swallowed, trying to ignore the faint pangs of starvation and dehydration that were trying to roll through my belly as I gripped the halligan bar I was holding a little more securely in the musty mostly darkness, fighting the fatigue trembling up my limbs. Around me the rest of my USAR unit were in the same rough shape, sunken stubble-covered set in grim countenance as we faced off with our inevitable demise. We had been surviving against the odds already for weeks, it had always only been a matter of time before we met the eventual end of our suicide run._

_"Well everyone," Frye, my baby-faced lieutenant who tried to make himself look more fierce with a Fu Manchu, announced as he turned and looked over the small unit of us that had been working together for the last five years, "it truly has been an honor."_

_"Bet I brain more zombies than you do," blond blue-eyed calendar-worthy pretty boy Curtis sneered over to his partner Alonzo, earning a feral grin from the equally handsome Nigerian ex-navy seal in return._

_"You think so, white boy?" he jeered back, which made Curtis chuckle in response before the silence settled over us all again, the two men standing supportively back to back with each other._

_The moments ticked by, the silence only broken by the unending moans of the undead and the relentless assault on the door that was our only exit out of the underground labyrinth we had taken refuge in._

_"Fuck this is a shitty place to die," Demetrius, my partner in our regional USAR unit and former NFL draft pick for a fullback, muttered to me under his breath._

_I couldn't help but agree with a nod, trying to keep my breathing even as my adrenaline-laden pulse thundered._

_"Hey, wait, there's a hatch back here!" Curtis suddenly blurted, looking up over his shoulder a the darkest recesses of the room we were trapped in._

_I moved over to where he was standing, leaving D with Frye, to peer up a shaft that was cut into the wall with my trusty Zippo, the flame seemingly overly bright in the gloom we had become accustomed to. Glancing up with a squint as my eyes adjusted, I could see the hatch he was talking about. It was a good fifteen feet up a very narrow shaft, daylight shining along the edges of the hatch. It wasn't an impossible climb for someone who knew what they were doing if they could fit in the narrow space without gear. Hell, it was the kind of thing we were all actually trained for in our division. Unfortunately, it was an incredibly narrow space._

_"That's an old coal shoot. There's no way you guys could fit," the dejection in my voice was plain, and I moved to turn my attention back to the door that was about to be breached. Curtis' hand on my arm stopped me as efficiently as his soft voice._

_"But you could."_

_Whipping my head around in complete and total disbelief, I blinked up at his somber baby blue expression as he looked down at me. None of the guys said anything in the suddenly tense, oppressive atmosphere as I gaped at the man, the moaning of the undead and the ominous creaking of the wooden door frame the only sounds to be heard._

_It had never been a secret that there had been hostility between me and Curtis when I had initially joined the team, and to some extent, it still lingered. The sexist bullshit had eventually dulled down to the kind of animosity usually seen around siblings over the course of the last five years, but it was hard to pinpoint when the shift happened._

_While I was now the exception to some extent in his eyes, it was the team's open secret he thought women were nothing but a liability in the field. He had always sworn that I would be the one to get them all killed, even though I had more than proven my worth as a team member. More than once we had fought like dogs over the idea that due to my female ineptitude I would leave a teammate behind, and the thought that I would ever abandon anyone I held the line with had me seeing red to the point where we'd even come to blows over it once. That simple sentence, coming out of his mouth, was downright inconceivable._

_" **What?**_   _Are you out of your fucking **mind?!** "_

"Kitten? Alice? Shh. Easy. Honey, wake up, you're having a nightmare."

I sucked a sharp frigid sulfurous breath in through my nose, different from the stuffy rotting dust laden heat from my memory. My eyes snapped open to meet Sam's worried hazel orbs as he loomed over me, his face suddenly replacing the now lost face of my teammate. His brow was creased with concern as he scanned my face, trying to read the emotions there as our breath fogged the air between us in the morning light.

"You ok?" he asked me quietly.

I let out a shaky breath and gave a little nod, because what other reaction could I really have to that question given the subject matter? It was ancient history, and while the memory was painful as fuck and filled me with a gnawing guilt. A guilt that there was nothing I could do to _change_. A look passed over his face that told me he knew the truth, but all he did was bring his thumb up to wipe away a tear I hadn't been aware had leaked down my temple.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

I closed my eyes, unable to look at him.

I felt his fingers tangle in my hair, gently tugging at it as I felt his breath tremulously wash over my face until I looked back into his earnest expression, "Whatever it is, whatever happened that you survived, I'm grateful for it. God, Alice, I am _so_  grateful for it. I'm grateful to whatever got you stuck up that tree in the first place so that we got to find you. I'm grateful for every miracle that has given you back to us when we've thought we've lost you."

My vision was full of his hazel eyes, and there were emotions in his gaze that I didn't want to try and understand as I looked at him, my own emotions a little too raw at that moment. Tears were still leaking into my hair as he freed his fingers and brought them to gently brush over the planes of my face as he looked at me, the action almost reverent. Even the gentle pads of his fingers were huge as he traced them over the ridge of my eyebrow and down to my cheekbone, brushing the tears away from my temple, and then down to my chin.

"You...," he trailed off for a moment, looking conflicted, his fingers resting against my jaw as he bit his lip. He swallowed, false starting a couple of times before he just looked at me, trying to convey everything he was trying to say in one of the famous looks he so often shared with his brother. I closed my eyes against the onslaught, unable to bear it.

He let out a little, dismayed huff of air as his hand shifted, his fingers gliding along my jaw until they could curl behind my skull and neck. His thumb pushed my face up as he kissed me, determined to convey what he was feeling to me in one way or another. I whimpered, once again acutely aware of just how much bigger he was than me, as he slotted his mouth over mine as if he had been doing it for years and not just weeks. The kiss was languid and sweet and unhurried as he shifted to cover me completely with his huge frame, his weight only pressed against me enough to make me aware of him. His big hand caressed my side in long strokes before gripping my hip, pulling me into him as his tongue explored my mouth, my legs parting so he could settle between my thighs.

My hands made it to his shoulders as I whimpered, and he let out a little groan before breaking the kiss, resting his forehead against mine as he carded his hand through my hair. All vestiges of the nightmare had been driven from my thoughts as my everything was filled with _S_ _am_. It was thrilling to see the naked arousal in his eyes as he looked at me, but as usual, he reigned himself in and kept every touch slow and gentle. With a simple kiss to my nose he pushed himself up and I shivered from more than just the blast of cold air he let under the covers.

"We need to get you something to eat," was all he said before reaching down to cup my cheek again with his big hand, his eyes once again saying volumes more than he could easily convey, "you rest here, I'll be right back."

 

 

 


	23. rifle rapport

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The intrepid group finally ventures off the lake, and run into trouble.

Rocky snow encrusted peaks loomed ominously all around, bare patches only seen here and there due to high winds and too steep surfaces. The sparse local vegetation was mostly buried under the grainy, crunchy snow that carpeted the ground as far as we could see, glaring and glittering to the point of blinding on clear days. The conditions were making travel more treacherous than ever before and not just due to the cold. It was especially bad considering that it was deep enough to hide any undead that were simply laying still and inert until disturbed, and we had discovered that the undead remained active even at below freezing temperatures. We'd had more than one nasty surprise due to it, and it had made travel slow going in the extreme at times as we had been forced to actually sound our path in some areas. Unfortunately, harsh winter storms had forced us way off course a week after had decided to leave the Great Salt Lake.

My breath steamed dramatically in front of my face as I sighed in disgust as I stood on the edge of the broken roadway bridge, looking down at the impassable dirty whitewater below. Next to me bundled against the wind and cold stood Gabe, Cas, and Dean, all with similarly annoyed expressions. This was the fifth river crossing we had come to check out, and the fifth we had found destroyed trying to get over a river full of freezing rapids.

The sound of the rushing water was the only thing to be heard in the absolutely frigid winter afternoon as we stood there more than a little dismayed. I shuffled my weight from foot to foot in a vain attempt to keep warm, the cold starting to seep through the soles of the boots I was wearing despite the exercise I had gotten slogging up here. My jaw started chattering as I stood exposed to the cutting winter wind which kept the overpass out of deep snow but made it treacherously icy to walk on. The Sacramento River, broad and deep as it had been, at least fit into the 'lazy river' category, making crossing it a hell of a lot easier without a damned bridge, unlike this predicament.

We had spent long nights on the houseboats discussing that if the weather held we could make it to Sioux Falls in about four weeks, give or take. It was a little hard to tell exactly what month it was, but no one thought it was really that late into the season, so it was worth it to try. If we could make it to Sioux Falls we would finally be _there_. The goal. The place were we planned come hell or high water to set down roots and make a life. We could find a place to hole up and actually settle down for a while and build something that could resemble a home, with the people who were now family to each other. It was a prospect that after playing house for a few weeks, was appealing to everyone, and we all knew that there was no way we could overwinter on the houseboats even if we had wanted to.

The weather was deceptively nice for the first week of our journey northeast before the snows actually set in, and they set in with a vengeance. By the time we had been able to find somewhere secure enough to stop and actually take stock of everything, we were somewhere in goddamned _I_ _daho_. 

Winter was proving to be more of a challenge than any of us had expected, and I was discovering that I had no idea what the hell winter actually was. Being from Northern California and loving Lake Tahoe, I was familiar with snow, and the whole idea of it, but _nothing_  prepared me for the cold of a winter out on the high plains. I was convinced that this was actually hell, a hell full of weirdly half frozen slow moving zombies and ice forever. We were low enough on supplies that we needed to push forward though, and we knew that there was nothing for us if we went back. Even if we had wanted to the trip back to what we had left behind lethally further than we could possibly hope to stretch our meager stores. With the harsh weather compounded with our dwindling rations and slow-moving undead, we were more than willing to risk a more populated area to get what we needed to survive the season, even if that meant finding a place to bunker down until the spring thaw to continue our journey.

If only we could get somewhere to actually _do_  that.

There was the rustle of paper to my left as Gabriel pulled out the map we had been making of the area until we came across one. The hell of living in the digital age was the simple fact that GPS had made paper maps obsolete for most people. We were still unable to pinpoint our exact location despite Gabriel and Balthazar's remarkable navigation skills, although we had at least narrowed it down in longitude and latitude. We were hoping that mapping out a small area would help them get our bearings eventually when we finally discovered a map, and we were hoping to find a damned river crossing eventually so we didn't just have to keep pushing North at this point in desperation.

"So, if we backtrack to the crossroad we turned at we can try..."

A rifle rapport shattered the winter air. Followed by another, and another, and another. It was like time stopped and reality suddenly shifted. It took my brain a moment to register what was happening, but when the second shot fired, I reacted. I crouched, trying to figure out where the shots were coming from, and in the heartbeats that followed everything went wrong.

Gabriel made a weird little noise and pitched forward.

Instinctively I lurched for him as his arms flailed, but I wasn't really prepared to take the full weight of him as he toppled. The next thing I knew he was dangling precariously half off the bridge as his hands futilely scrabbled at the frozen cement through the crust of snow, latching onto me like a lifeline when he realized there was nothing else for him to latch onto. He was _heavy_  and I had to brace myself as best I could as his weight tried to pull me forward as well, crying out from the effort. Digging my fingers hard into his overcoat for grip, I struggled to pull him back up, time losing meaning. Despite my best efforts, I could feel myself sliding on the slick icy surface, my body sliding helplessly towards the edge at an agonizingly slow but still much too rapid pace. A movement to my right caught my attention, and my heart stopped when I saw that Cas was mostly hanging off the edge of the broken structure as well. Over half his body was dangling in mid-air, his center of gravity dangerously overextended as one hand death gripped a jutting piece of rebar as he tried to dig his legs in for purchase. His face twisted in a grimace of pure effort, and the reason for that effort was in his other hand.

A hand that was desperately clinging to Dean's pant leg as the man limply hung precariously dangled over the water. Dean wasn't moving at all, and his face completely slack.

My brain refused to properly register what was happening I continued to struggle to pull Gabe up. His face was taking on an alarmingly gray pallor and his grip began to falter. I felt my stomach roll when I saw the red of blood between his frighteningly blue lips.

The rifle went off again. Three measured shots that had me flinching and glancing over my shoulder as I heard them make contact nearby, trying to see the shooter who had been obviously aiming at us. At the third shot, Cas cried out in pain and I turned to watch in horrified disbelief as his grip faltered and Dean's slack form dropped like a stone towards the churning brown hued whitewater.

He was immediately followed by the tumbling form of Castiel.

The ting of the fourth shot ricocheted off the concrete directly to my left. The impact actually vibrated through my side and had me flinching instinctively away from it. Because of it, I didn't see them hit the water. I didn't even hear a splash. When I turned back they were just gone. My breath started to come out of me in harsh gasps as shock and adrenaline hit me.

"He's... re...loading," Gabe coughed weakly, his chin now streaming red and his face as pale and grey as the snow around us.

I didn't register what he said. A panicked sort of autopilot kicked in as terror and shock made me move. I could see just how bad Gabriel was hurt on his face. My grip didn't falter as I continued to struggle with his weight, but his grip faltered on me. I didn't say anything, not daring to risk the breath as I fought to keep us from sliding over the edge. My mind was racing, refusing to believe what I had just seen, trying to figure out what the hell I was supposed to do.

_I didn't even hear them hit the water. How could I have not heard them hit the water? Why wasn't Dean **moving**? Who was shooting at us? What the fuck was **happening**?!_

"Kitten... he's... reloading," Gabriel coughed again, his voice still weak, but I met his eyes and what I saw there made my stomach drop out.

" _Run_."

With that word, Gabe let go of me completely, easily slipping out of the slightly too large overcoat I had a death grip on as he plunged away from me towards the raging surface of the river. I fell back from the suddenness of it and even as I scrambled after him, it was too late. By the time I was looking over the edge he too had fallen beneath the churning whitewater, and there was nothing to see. I didn't hear him hit the water either, the rapids overpowering the sound. I was reaching down into the air after nothing, my hands holding an empty overcoat, and suddenly I couldn't breathe.

 _No_.

I don't know how the gunman missed, frozen in place as I was for so many precarious seconds, but he did. The sudden sharp sting of a bullet clipping my ear had me moving though, scrambling to follow Gabe's instruction as I slipped and slid back down the slight incline of the ice-crusted two-lane bridge. I heard the rifle go off again, another three shots that chased me as I moved as quickly as I could until there was a safe place for me to jump the bridge rail and out of the line of direct sight of the shooter. My bad knee wrenched when I hit the uneven rocky ground, and I bit down hard on my tongue to keep from crying out, trying to stay out of direct sight. My already shocked brain went white from the pain as I pressed myself against the frigid concrete, and for an untold moment in time all I was aware of was my harsh hyperventilating and my heartbeat. The moment my vision made sense again I was scanning the river, desperate for a sign of the men who I had just been with moments ago.

Nothing.

Shock and panic set in, the kind that blanked all rational thought and made one not feel any injuries they sustained. The gunman wasn't even a thought in my mind as I stumbled along the rocky river bank, following the rapids downstream, falling over boulders and splashing through ice-crusted shallows. My breath burned in my chest like fire as my blurry eyes stung, but I couldn't stop and I couldn't blink because _I still hadn't seen any sign of them._

Dean? Where was Dean? Where was Gabe? Where was Cas? But more importantly, _where the fuck was Dean?_


End file.
